


Losing Control

by Chloepioneer



Category: Josh Dun/ Tyler Joseph - Fandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Drugs, Josh Dun/Tyler Joseph - Freeform, M/M, Mental Illness, Raves, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-06 18:13:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 45,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5426831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chloepioneer/pseuds/Chloepioneer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tyler is sent to a juvenile detention center where Josh works as a teacher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Had Tyler played the last two years of his life according to his parent’s, he’d probably be training to impress someone important for a basketball scholarship to a prestigious college. Instead, Tyler had done everything in his power to deter himself away from the image his parents had created for him. He reflected on the past two years of his life, on how much had happened and who he’d lost. It had been four weeks since Tyler’s arrest and placement in secure detention and three days since he’d been moved into secure confinement. It hadn’t surprised him when he’d been charged, unlike his mother who had broken into a fit of tears and whines as her eldest child was hauled away from her with a smile of his face. Today was Monday and Tyler’s first day as part of the education system as an official criminal of the state. Tyler hated school and spent most of his days hiding off campus getting stoned with his friends. The rules that came alongside school gave him an itch and fogginess in his mind.

Tyler snapped out of his daze as the guard shoved him towards the counter, his wrists still detained behind his back.

“Number,” the reception spat. Tyler stared at her with dead eyes and a placid expression. The guard grunted and shook him again, tightening the grip on his arm. Tyler refused to speak, keeping his stare trained to the lady’s face, which was slowly becoming paler.

“I-I need your number, to-to see which room you’re in,” she swallowed. Tyler smiled as her shaking voice told him everything he wanted to know. She _feared_ him.

“His number is 3565.”

“Joseph?” He nodded in response as the receptionist printed out his form and handed it to his guard who pulled him away from the desk and down several corridors. They stopped outside room 472 and the guard knocked twice. One of the other kids came to open the door, greeting the guard with a snarl.

“It’s just another piggy,” the girl oinked, which led to class to hysterics.

“Alright, alright!” the teacher called. The guard pushed Tyler towards the desk, his eyes glaring at the floor as he weaved through the shoes of his classmates. When he reached the front, the teacher sighed.

“Can you _please_ take the handcuffs off? I prefer my students to have use of their arms.” The guard did as he was asked before turning to face him.

“If you need any assistance with restraining 3565, I’m more than inclined to help.”

“I’m sure you are, but I’m also sure I can manage. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a lesson to teach,” he grunted, pointing at the door. The kids sitting down oinked and snuffed as he left.

“Okay, everyone! I know we’re all adults here and can respect that your first day in here can be pretty shitty, right? So, you know the rules.” The teacher, who Tyler had yet to see, turned to face him. “I’m Josh and I’ll be helping you keep up to date with school work whilst you’re here. If you could just introduce yourself and then take a seat at the front, please.” Tyler didn’t speak. He just stared at the floor and waited. He was waiting for the quiver of his teacher’s voice, for the judgement from his peers to begin but the longer he waited, the more idiotic he felt.

“We can wait all day if you want.”

The gentleness of the teacher’s voice melted over him, somehow unfreezing the stiffness of his stare. Tyler’s eyes flew up to greet those of the teacher, who only smiled warmly. His hair was messy but styled and Tyler could see muscle beneath his button up shirt.

“I’ll make you a deal. You introduce yourself and I won’t pick on you to answer any questions today, okay?”

“3565,” Tyler whispered. A few of the students laughed.

“Not your number, your name. A number isn’t part of your identity-“

“It is in here,” Tyler argued. “Tyler. My name’s Tyler.”

“Right, okay. Good. You can sit down now.” About half way through the lesson and Josh had stuck to his deal, not picking on Tyler once. But the whispers of his classmates were slowly building, crawling over the desktops and pooling around his feet. He could hear them all wondering, making assumptions about him. He could hear the two boys behind him furiously debating.

“Maybe he robbed some shit or somethin’.”

“Nah, I’m thinkin’ like high school dropout, running away from home shit. I’ve heard he’s a psycho or somethin’. One of the kids who moved here before him said he was a fuckin’ weirdo. Said he’d just sit and stare into space all day and-“

“Kyle? Tom? I doubt you’re discussing Twain’s use of social issues-“

“They’re trying to work up the balls to ask me if I’m crazy or not,” Tyler laughed, feeling the confidence seep over his body and move his limbs for him. He leaned back in his seat and noticed Josh turn his attention towards him.

“Is that right?” Josh sighed.

“Yeah man, of course we want t’ know if he’s crazy or not. We’ve heard a lot of weird shit about you, bro. What are you even in here for?” Kyle scoffed. “I bet you broke into your fag boyfriends’ house to shove your dick up his ass-

“Kyle, that’s _enough_! Save that shit for therapy. This is your place to come and learn. Drop your shit off at the door, right? Apologise, now.”

“I’m not apologisin’ for shit! Not my fault the pussy can’t take a joke.” Before Josh had time to respond, Tyler jumped out of the seat and grabbed Kyle’s head, slamming it down against the desk. His nose cracked and a steady flow of blood oozed out over the desk. He threw Kyle from his seat to the wall. The classroom exploded into action. The other students banged on their desks and hollered at the entertainment.

“Break it up!” Josh roared, fleeing over to the boys. Tyler had Kyle up against the wall, pounding into his face with split knuckles. Josh grabbed Tyler’s shoulders, attempting to drag the boy away.

“Let him go!” Tyler remained relentless, kneeing Kyle in the stomach, uncaring of the blood splattered across his face. Josh finally managed to drag Tyler away, pushing him onto the ground before restraining his hands behind his back. Kyle slumped against the ground, drifting in and out of consciousness.

“Get the fuck off of me!” Tyler screamed, thrashing against Josh’s grip. “I’m sorry, Tyler. I have to do this,” Josh whispered. He looked to one of the students close to his desk and nodded. “Push the button.” One of the younger looking boys nervously pushed the button, an alarm sounding throughout the building. Moments later, the same guard that had brought Tyler to the room burst through the door with another two guards who immediately ran to assist Kyle.

“Well fuck me,” the guard laughed, walking past Kyle’s bleeding body to where Tyler remained struggling under Josh. “Thought you could handle it, teach?”

“I have to take the safety of my student’s into account before my pride. Something you need to learn,” he grunted. The guard nudged Josh away when he had a strong hold of Tyler’s arms. He used his hand cuffs and then looked to Josh, who was stood in-between both boys with a worried look on his face.

“Did 3565 resist restraint?” the guard smirked.

“His name is T-“

“Did 3565 resist restraint? Yes or no?”

“Well, obviously yes but-“ Before Josh could argue his case, the guard had plunged his taser into Tyler’s back, watching the boy choke on saliva, veins pushing against the skin of his neck as his body convulsed in pain.

“Stop!” Josh cried. “Stop it!” The classroom broke into uproar before one of the other officer’s drew his own taser as a warning.

“Detainee 3565 was resisting restraint. You said it yourself, Dun. I’m required to use any means available to manage a situation. Now I’m sure 3565 will be a lot more compliable, right?” the guard directed his question to Tyler’s limp body with a snort.

A paramedic team arrived, deciding to take information from the officer’s instead of the teacher. Josh allowed the rest of the class to leave early. He stayed sat at his desk, watching Kyle being transferred onto a stretcher and carried from the room. He watched Tyler lay on the floor, staring motionlessly at the wall beside him. Josh made sure the officer was still talking to one of the paramedics and walked over to Tyler, sitting down against the wall.

“I’m sorry I had to do that,” he offered. “

I’m not a fag,” Tyler whispered.

“What did you say?”

“I’m not a fag. Kyle thought I was. I-I had to make him believe me-I had to.” One of the other officers leant over and yanked Tyler from the floor.

“We’re takin’ him back to his room. He’ll meet with his therapist tomorrow and she’ll probably want to talk to you about this.”

“Okay,” Josh nodded. He watched with a frown as Tyler, still shook up, stumbled out the door and along the corridor.

Morning arrived and along with it came a sense of dread and unease that felt like a noose around Tyler’s neck. He wasn’t allowed to eat with the other boys as he usually is. He wasn’t allowed to go for a stroll before his therapy session. Tyler sat beside the nice officer who hadn’t made Tyler sleep in his handcuffs, as suggested by others, in the waiting area of his therapists’ office. Although small, Tyler thought the room to be quite welcoming. The door to her office opened and Tyler dropped his eyes to the ground as Josh walked out, shaking her hand and throwing him a guilty glance.

“Tyler? Would you like to come through?” The officer stood, pulling him up and guiding him forward. “Ah, just Tyler will do,” she smiled.

“You need to have an officer present. You know, in case he snaps again.”

“You’re not coming in here. These are confidential sessions and I understand the severity of the situation. If I need your assistance, I will call you.” Tyler, during this time, had made himself comfy on one of the chairs. The door slammed and she welcomed him.

“You look as happy as ever to be here,” she smiled, sitting herself down and looking to the boy before her.

Tyler didn’t say a word.

“Tyler, are you aware of how serious yesterdays actions were?”

Again, he didn’t speak.

“No, we’re not doing this again, Tyler. We’ve worked so hard on your speech. Too hard to just turn around and let you go back into your shell. This was your first incident since you arrived. They’ll take that into consideration.”

“I-I just wanted him to be quiet. He was saying I was a fucking fag and so, I-I didn’t want to do it but I had to. You understand that, right?” Tyler looked at her with uncertain eyes.

“When you say you didn’t want to but you  _had_ to, can you explain that? Why did you feel like you had to?” 

“It just felt like it was the only way. He wouldn’t stop speaking and I couldn’t stop the anger coming out. It felt like, like one minute I was sitting in my chair and the next, Josh was trying to pull me away from Kyle and I was covered in blood.” 

“Did it feel like a black out? Or can you remember the attack?” Tyler shivered at the word. 

“ I can remember everything. It’s just like I’m watching a movie. I don’t really, like, feel anything when I think about it.”

“You don’t feel guilty about what you did?” she questioned.

“I don’t think so. My head hurts when I think about it too much.” 

“Do you think the pain in your head is a representation of your guilt? You don’t want to think about what you’ve done and so you rely on this pain in your head as a scapegoat.”

“No, not really. I think I get a fuckin’ headache when I think about shit,” Tyler scoffed. Jess nodded with a laugh. 

“Okay, fair enough. How are you sleeping?” 

“Not great. I’m probably getting about three or so hours a night.”

“The bags under your eyes say less, Tyler. When was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t know, I got a few hours the night before I got moved. Then it’s felt wrong since.”

“What’s felt wrong?” 

“Everything. I hate to be general, but everything feels like it’s slipped a few places to the left. Like I’m living in the same universe as everyone else,” Tyler began running his fingers over once another, lowering his gaze to his hands. “But, it’s like someone has picked up my timeline and moved it a few places to the left.”

“Can you go into that a little more? I’m not sure I fully understand.” 

“It feels like although I’m present in your reality, everything is somehow unsettled where I am.” 

“And how does that make you feel? Sorry to be cliché, Tyler.”

“It makes me nervous. Nervous because even though I am around people, I feel completely isolated. Like I’m stuck behind a piece of glass and everything is going wrong. It’s-it’s hard to explain but, it’s like everyone can see my problems through this piece of glass but they can’t see me asking for help. Even though I’m banging, pounding on the glass, no one is coming near me.” 

“Why do you think that is? That no one wants to come near you.”

“Because my problems scare them. Because they can only see what’s happening but they can’t understand it. From my point of view, my problems make sense but from their side of the glass, it just looks like I’m a bad person and because I struggle to articulate my feelings sometimes, no one gets to understand. So, I’m on my own,” his breathing hitched and he felt a strange pressure spread across his forehead.

“I think you articulated that very well, Tyler. I’d like to explore more into this idea of the glass wall.” 

“No, I- I don’t think I want to talk about it anymore,” he moaned, pressing a hand to his forehead. 

“I think we need to stick with this idea while we have it. Why do you think you’ve created this glass wall in your head?” Tyler couldn’t answer. “Tyler?”

“No more,” he cried, leaning forward and covering his face. “No more!”

“Okay, okay Tyler. We’ll stop for today, okay?” He nodded, the pain slowly disappearing. 

“What about class?”

“I’ve spoken to Josh. He’s happy to have you back in the class. We’ve moved Kyle into another room with a different teacher, okay? Your chaperone with escort you there now,” she motioned to the door and through the pane of glass in the window to where the officer sat. Tyler smiled.

“See you on Friday, Tyler.”

 


	2. Why Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyler's memories are haunting him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the best update but oh well.   
> Going to include a few flashbacks in every chapter :) x

Tyler could feel the pressure building up behind his skull; pushing at the fragments and leaking from his ears. The memories resurfaced each night, painting the white walls of his rectangular box a dull shade of grey. The demon in the corner smiled from behind his conscience.

Tyler could remember the nights when he’d forced the serotonin from the hidden caves in his mind and it’d bled through the cracks until he was grinning and laughing and ignoring the world. He misses the nights of sneaking through the broken window of his mother’s house. He thinks of the adrenaline shaking his bones and pushing him into her bedroom, hands before him as though they belonged to another. He pictures the times he spent stood tall above her sleeping frame, hands hovering over her neck and trembling with rage. He remembers taking a pillow in his grasp, holding it inches above her placid expression before his brother had awoken and nearly caught him.

He’d cried himself to sleep that night.

“Tyler? _Tyler_?” his head shot forwards, Josh stood at the front of classroom with an uncomfortable expression on his face as though to say please say you’re not going to attack anyone. Tyler managed an apologetic grimace and allowed Josh to resume teaching. Tyler noted that the boy he’d beaten wasn’t in class. He’d probably requested to be moved.

Tyler didn’t blame him.

He could feel the eyes of his classmates pulling him apart; nipping at the flesh that burnt beneath their stares. Josh noticed his discomfort and dismissed the students early, much to their happiness. Tyler made no attempt to leave, instead remained rooted to his chair. When the last of the others had left, Josh sat on the edge of his desk with a sigh. They sat in comfortable silence for several moments.

“Why’d you let me back in?” Tyler muttered.

“You’re not goin’ to learn anything if you don’t come to class, are you?”

“What about, y’know?”

“He’s okay. He’s recovering well and he’ll be back in classes next week. Why did you stay behind, Tyler? Is there something you want to tell me?” Josh encouraged. He loved his students and seeing them progress gave him genuine joy but Josh also enjoyed giving his students another ear away from the textbook sessions they had to endure. Tyler let out a sarcastic snort. He could feel it crawling up his skull, embedding beneath his skin and worming through his mouth. His brows were furrowed and Josh swallowed hard.

"Tyler? You okay?"

The younger boy’s eyes shot up to meet Josh’s, the coldness swimming throughout them felt like a gunshot wound through his chest.

“You think you can save him?” Tyler whispered. Josh’s face drained of colour.

“Save who?”

“Who the fuck do you think?”

“T-Tyler?”

The boy rose from his seat, fingertips dancing across the surface menacingly.

“You’re all the fucking _same._ Tyler clings to the idea of you but I know what a fucking waste all of this and so do you, no? Right now, you’re probably debating on pushing that pretty little button under your desk, hm?” he took several steps forward.

“Tyler, stop this, okay? If you want to talk, we can! It’s good to communicate!” Josh nodded, holding a palm out to signal he was to come no closer.

“Communicate?!” the boy laughed. “Oh Joshua, you don’t understand, do you? This little shit doesn’t need to fucking communicate, he needs to _submit._ ” He reached out and fingered the end of Josh’s tie with a smirk.

“W-what? Submit to what exactly?” Josh supposed that Tyler was using this as a method to rid himself of some of the anger and confusion.

“What do you think? _Big boy?_ ” the boy whispered, cupping Josh’s member and trailing his tongue along the teacher’s sharp jawline. Josh’s mouth dropped open, a whine breaking free and cutting Tyler through his heart.

“T-this is _wrong,_ Tyler! You s-should stop!”

“Hm, are you _sure?_ ” he giggled, already sliding down to his knees and fiddling with Josh’s belt buckle.

“Tyler loves it when I come out to play! I’m everything about himself he _loathes!_ I can’t _wait_ to liven this place up a little. _”_

Tyler groaned and scrambled back from Josh’s semi-hard on.

“Tyler!” the teacher gasped. The boy’s head shot up, eyes once again bright with fear and betrayal. His nose was dripping crimson and Tyler rushed to his feet.

“Tyler-I-“

“Fucking save it.”

 


	3. Blood Sugar

The water races in winding lanes along his skin, hair dripping and body shaking with a familiar discomfort. Tyler can feel a thousand palms brushing against his hips, his shoulders, his face. Tyler opens his eyes and what was supposed to be the cubicle wall had become an ocean of swaying bodies, moving in waves to the bass pumping through what had once been the shower head. Tyler, now clothed, glanced down at his hands and once more at the people around him. Something about the taste in his mouth and the smell in the air told him he’d been here before; seen what had happened here. A pair of hands grabbed his shoulders and he felt his body turn.

“Tyler! My boy!” It was Paolo. Paolo was a middle aged man who wore too much gel in his thinning hair and shirts that didn’t button above his belly button. He wore a forced smile that unsettled Tyler’s stomach. Paolo pinches Tyler’s cheek and gestures to the scene around them.

“What you think, eh? I did this all for you, baby boy,” he murmurs, lips pressing just beneath the boy’s ear. He pulls away and presses his thumbs against Tyler’s chin and he feels his mouth tug open. Paolo smirks with a glimmer in his eyes.

“Don’t I always make sure you have fun? Hm?” Tyler feels him press his second tab of the night against his awaiting tongue and his jaw tingles as the chemical flavour shoots through his mouth like a spark of lightning. Smiling now, Tyler takes Paolo’s hand and leads him to the centre of the dancing crowd. The shower room was empty save for the guard outside the door. Tyler spun and grinded against the air, lips parted and whining. He could feel Paolo grabbing at his skin, growling over the music into his ears. Paolo twists him, pulling his back tight against his chest, chin resting on his shoulder.

“Did you get the key, baby?”

“Yeah,” Tyler whispered. He fingers inside his pockets and reveals a set of three silver keys.

“Mm, you’re brilliant. You’re forever reminding me why I keep you around,”

Paolo fusses, grabbing the keys. The guard suddenly bangs twice on the door frame.

“Hey! One more minute, kid!” Tyler feels Paolo stumbled into his back, gasping for breath and gripping to Tyler’s shirt.

“W-what? What’s happened?” Tyler cries, spinning and catching Paolo as he collapses into his arms. He pulls back his jacket to reveal to bullet wounds in his stomach, pumping blood and pooling the floor. Tyler screams and screams, pushing his hands against the wounds and watching his hands stain red.

“No! No, Paolo!”

“Kid?” the guard asks, banging on the door.

“I’m coming in!” Tyler, too lost in the bleeding man in his arms, doesn’t hear the guard’s warning. The door bursts open and the guard paces into the shower, room thick with steam from the shower still running in the corner. He spots Tyler curled up in the centre of the showering block, shaking with sobs.

“Hey, Kid? Kid, you alright? You hurt yourself?” he gulps. No response comes from the boy.

“I’m comin’ closer, alright?” The guard quickly turns off the shower and edges closer to Tyler. The boys watches as Paolo chokes on his final breathes and the keys slip through his fingers. Tyler almost doesn’t register that the blistering screams are coming from him. His throat convulses and strains as he cries, grasping at the body that doesn’t exist. He clutches the blood shirt in his hands and shakes his head.

“Hey!” the guard shouts, arms circling around Tyler’s arms and pulling him backwards. Tyler feels the crowd pulling him back towards their merging bodies. The ominous darkness that comes with the people watching him. He throws his body back and forth, desperately trying to escape their clutches. The guard struggles to keep Tyler in his grasp. The boy, still wet from the shower, slips through his hands and smacks against the tiles. The impact winds Tyler, eyes wide and searching the room. The tiles are glistening with water. Tyler glances at his hands that are wrinkled slightly. The showers are lining the walls and Tyler closes his eyes and takes a moment to remember what reality looks like.

“Um, kid?” the guard sighs.

“I know,” Tyler whispers, standing and grabbing his towel. He feels the familiar coldness of the cuffs around his wrists and swallows the bitterness in his mouth.

Tyler was given a warning and was ordered to attend therapy that afternoon. He was finally allowed outside again. He wore an oversized grey jumper and slim fitted black track suit bottoms. The breeze was welcomed as he climbed on top of one of the picnic tables and signalled to the guard on watch.

“Light please,” Tyler smiles. The guard nods and lights the cigarette Tyler has in his mouth before leaving to keep watch. The boy lies back, cigarette smoking between his pursed lips, watching as the clouds blew by in their shapes and sizes. Tyler didn’t mind life when it was like this. It was simple and warm and comfortable. He lay admiring the view until the embers reached the filter. A shadow fell upon his face.

“You mind? ‘M trying to- oh.” Beside the bench stood Josh, face pulled into an uncomfortable frown and hands tapping at his sides.

“Hi Tyler.”

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Tyler, please. We need to talk about what happened after class the other day, okay? It’s important we address-“

“Don’t front me and start blattin’ about what the fuck you think needs to happen, yeah? Fuck you, you sanctimonious prick! You think you’re big, yeah? Think you’re a big man because you wear a fucking tie and you get to this leave this piece of shit prison whilst the rest of us are going to rot and decay here?”

“Tyler-“ Josh gulped.

“No. I’m talking.” Tyler snarled, pushing himself off the table and standing in front of Josh. “I’ve been through more shit than your pathetic little brain could even imagine. I’m a therapist’s wet fucking dream. I don’t plan on getting my education here, Josh. In fact, I don’t plan on doing anything here for much longer. You understand?”

“I know you’re angry, Tyler but please, I want to help you control whatever is making you so aggressive. You’re so much better than this place. I think we both know that.”

“No one can control it,” the boy laughed. Josh could see the harshness of the glint become prominent.

“Maybe they just haven’t been trying the right solutions? Maybe they didn’t know how to deal with it!” “Or what they’re dealing with, perhaps?” he smirked.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll see,” Tyler whispered. “You’re all going to see. Very, very soon.”

He left Josh with a concerned grimace on his face and paced towards the therapist office. He felt like he’d control of his body. Tyler could see the door growing closer; could feel the air brushing over his skin and his speed increased but couldn’t feel his legs taking him there. He saw his knuckles rise as he approached the door, knocking three times before opening the door. He heard his therapist welcome him, gesturing to his usual seat. He feels himself sit down and grip the chair arms. She smiles at him from across the desk and Tyler feels his mouth open and hears his voice cracking and quivering but knows they aren’t his words.

“I-I’m really struggling. I think you might need to put me back on suicide watch,” Tyler hears himself whimper.

“If you think that’s appropriate, Tyler and obviously, your safety is a main concern.”

“I want to show you something I did to myself.”

“Oh? What is it?” she inquires. Tyler can feel the familiar burn at the top of his spine and tries his best to scream at her, warn her in any way. She stands and comes forward as Tyler asks. She bends over slightly and Tyler takes his opportunity to jump forward and grab the paper weight from her desk.

“Tyler, no!” she screams as he spins on his heel, smacking her across the face and watching as her body falls limp to the ground. He drops the paper weight and runs to the other side of the desk, yanking open several drawers before he finds what he’s looking for. Beneath several documents were the set of keys that held the door code and key for each one of her patients.

“Time for some fun.”


	4. Left Here

Josh collapsed onto his bed, relishing in the comfort of his duvet. The flat he shared with his lifelong friend Debby was rugged and messy, just the way he liked it. The kitchen was alive with the scent of spices and Josh couldn’t wait to dig into whatever recipe had caught his flatmate’s eye. An aspiring cook was a good friend to have.

“It’s ready, J!” He shuffled into the kitchen, sitting himself at the table with a sigh.

“Jesus, rough day?” Debby giggled, handing him a mound of food. He took a large forkful and moaned in delight.

“Another A plus!” Josh declared.

“Thanks teach. Now, no deflecting, what happened today?”

“Have I told you about Tyler?”

“New kid, right? The one who nearly killed that other guy in your class?”

“Yeah. Him. He’s . _..different_. And I don’t mean the inspiring different like some Good Will Hunting kind of shit. I mean like, dark different. There’s something about him that isn’t right, Debby. I talked to his therapist and she said he has extreme emotional problems but I can’t help but think it’s more than that.”

“Maybe he has a mental illness or something? They might need to do more tests on him or something. Why are you so bothered, anyway?”

“He- he came onto me.”

“ _What_?!” Debby screamed, pasta flying from her fork and splattering against the wall.

“It-it wasn’t Tyler though, I swear it!”

“Josh, what the hell are you talking about? Explain. Now!”

“It was a couple of days ago, okay? He seemed really uncomfortable in class so I dismissed them a little earlier but he stayed behind. He was asking why I let him back into my class and we- we were just talking and then all of a sudden, something _snapped_. He didn’t seem like Tyler anymore, he was- he was really aggressive and forward.”

“And then he came onto you?” Debby pushed, itching to know the details.

“Kind of. He started talking in third person, saying how I couldn’t save him and how Tyler needed to submit. And _then_ he came onto me.” Debby’s mouth hung open, eyes wide in wonder.

“Man, that sounds like some devil possession kinda shit!”

“Tell me about it. So, he was outside today so I went up to him just so I can clear things. You know, I figured it’d be best if he could understand he’d broken boundaries. But, when I tried to speak to him, he was the same as in my classroom. He threatened that we’d all see what we’re dealing with soon. It’s like he has two personalities.”

Josh’s phone suddenly began ringing from his bedroom.

“Ugh,” he groaned, rushing to answer it. He saw it was his work number and swore beneath his breath. He padded back to the kitchen and sat down.

“Hello?” he mumbled around a mouthful of pasta.

“Josh? Josh, are you there?!”

It was Jerry, one of the night time security guards.

“Hey Jerry, what’s up? Why’s it so loud?”

“You need to get here! Now! He’s- shit, Josh, just get here!”

“Jerry, calm down! What’s happened?”

“It’s that Tyler kid, he’s gone mad! He attacked his therapist, he- he stole the keys and he’s opened the cells on his wing! It’s chaos! He’s asking for you specifically, Josh. Please, just get here.”

The line went dead and Josh ran to get his coat.

“What’s happening?” Debby panicked.

“That little _shit_!” Josh snapped. “He’s attacked Kelly and opened the cells on his wing. Now he’s requesting me!”

“Be careful!” She called out after him.

Josh’s hands trembled against the leather of his steering wheel. It was only a short ride to work but the roads seemed longer, more winding and daunting. He pulled into the parking lot to see a collection of guards chasing several boys around the grass. The spot lights on the building were roaming the grounds and the alarm blared into the night.

“Fuck sake,” Josh spat, locking his car and running to the entrance. He was met by a panic stricken Jerry. The inside of the building was havoc, offenders and guards chasing one another. They were tearing apart their cells, breaking and smashing anything they could find.

“He’s been asking for you! Come on,” Jerry rushed, grabbing Josh by the arm and dragging him towards Kelly’s office. He knocked on the door to see Tyler peak out beneath the blind and unlock it for them. Josh stumbled into the room and the door was slammed shut behind him before Jerry could make it inside.

“Kelly!” Josh gasped, rushing to her side. Her face was smothered in thick, crimson blood that continued to ooze from the wound on her forehead. She was trembling and crying, eyes wide in fear. The office had been destroyed, bloody hand prints along the walls.

“Josh! Oh, Josh, you have to help! He’s-he’s not well, Josh. Please, it’s not his fault. I didn’t pay enough attention, he’s- I think he’s schizo-“

 _“Shut the fuck up_.” Josh turned his head to see Tyler, head tilted and looming in the corner.

“What is this, Tyler?” Josh swallowed. “What’s happening?”

The younger boy paced to Kelly’s desk, handing Josh his crumbled patient file.

“Emotional problems,” Tyler laughed. “Anger issues. Abandonment issues. Fuck you! You weren’t fucking listening!” he screamed, hands gripping his hair. “I was _trying_ to tell you! I wanted to warn you but you weren’t fucking listening! He’s here and you’re not ready!”

“Ready for what, Tyler?”

“He’s gonna do it, Josh!” Tyler cried, sinking to his knees. “I don’t wanna do it!”

“Hey, hey, come here,” the teacher whispered, edging closer with his hands on view. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay? Who is he and what’s he going to do?”

Tyler didn’t respond, only remained trembling and transfixed on the floor.

“Tyler? What’s going to happen?” Josh took another cautious step forward. Tyler pounced forward, knocking Josh to the ground and wringing his hands around his neck. Josh’s eyes were wide in panic, face red and hands clutching at Tyler’s.

“ _I_ am going to kill every last one of you.”

 


	5. Son Of Lucifer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it's been this long!  
> Still working with this story.  
> As always, please read with caution and care.  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> xx

It was as though it was unfolding in slow motion.

Josh and Kelly watched the spiteful glint dissipate from Tyler’s eyes as the door crashed behind him. Four armed guards rushed forward, circling around the frightened boy. Their guns were aimed, armour built to erase distinguishing human features. The iron soldiers were screaming, arms frantically signalling actions Josh didn’t understand.

One of the guards moved forward, grabbing Josh’s bicep and shoving him toward the door.

“Get medical in here!”

He stumbled out of the office, catching Tyler’s terrified stare. The boy glanced from Kelly to the crimson trails across his palms. The paperweight lay discarded in the remains of the office. Josh ran along the corridors, wavering through the aftermath of Tyler’s actions. Prisoners were crying, cells destroyed and empty. Guards were hauling aggressive prisoners to segregation. The sight made his stomach churn.

He located the medical office, ordering them to Kelly’s office.

Tyler wasn’t there when Josh clambered back.

Kelly was strapped into a stretcher, her hand furiously searching for Josh. He intertwined their fingers.

“Hey, you’re alright! You’re goin’ to be just fine, okay?” he sniffled, eyes burning with the weight of the situation. She struggled against the restraints and shook her wearied head.

“Don’t let them forget,” she winced. “Tyler.”

“Where have they taken him?”

The medical staff began to remove her, pushing Josh backward.

“We need to take her to the hospital wing. We’re sorry, this’ll have to wait.”

“No, you don’t understand! Wait! Kelly, where is he?!”

“Max! Go to max!” she cried, her voice stunted by the oxygen masked being forced over her panicked expression. Josh ran his trembling hands through his hair, kicking at the desk in anger.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, shit!”

One of the medics tapped his shoulder.

“I’d go home if I were you. They’ll probably have him heavily sedated. You won’t be allowed anywhere near him if they’ve taken him to max.”

“You heard her! They’ll forget about him. He needs help!” She sadly shook her head.

“They’ll transfer him for this.”

Josh wasn’t sure why this enraged him. He supposed it was his dedicated to Kelly’s wish.

\--

The hallways were darker than Tyler could stand. Shadows crept along the winding cracks, a sinister breeze seeping through. They tiptoed beside him, taunting every breath and wince. A constant light, flashing blood red, awoke the whistling prisoners. Their beaten hands pounded their cage doors, frantic eyes peering through the minuscule panes of glass, cheering Tyler’s appearance.

His split lip had swollen, offering him an almost enjoyable pain as he chewed religiously. The cuffs suffocating his wrists were slathered with his blood, several sizes too small. He struggled to care. A darkening bruise lay crowning beneath his eye, the mirroring eyebrow, matted with sweat, was split in two.

The guards came to an abrupt halt, opening one of the cell doors. Tyler peaked inside and resisted the strong urge to recoil in disgust. A petite room of grey and black lay before him, a stained and undoubtedly broken toilet pushed into the corner. The room had no windows, the only source of light coming from a flickering, bare bulb that swung menacingly from the roof. Three flies circled the hot orb, zapping themselves against it simultaneously.  The bed was nothing more than a soiled camping mat and a tattered blanket.

“Have fun, Princess,” the guards mocked, ripping off him handcuffs and throwing him into the cell. Tyler didn’t react; couldn’t muster the energy to entertain them.

“Look at what you’ve done,” he whispered when he was sure the guards had left. He crouched against the camping mat and awaited the war that was building beneath his skull.

\--

Josh spent the best part of the following week trying to savour what he could of the progress they’d made. The guards had cleaned up the severe sections of the mess and stabilised the majority of patients within a day or two, however, his class was noticeably thin with half of his students locked in segregation.

English had taken a backseat in favour of Tyler’s behaviour. His student’s attention seemed impossible to capture, much more focused on where he was or if he was still alive.

“Can we please focus?!” he barked, fists slamming the desk. “What Tyler did was unacceptable and he is being punished accordingly! The same rules apply in this room that have done since day one. We are in here to learn!”

“Punished accordingly?” one of the boys in back scoffed. Josh could feel the anger crawling along his spine; using his bones as a ladder to his head.

“Yes, Thomas. Tyler shouldn’t have done what he did if he wasn’t prepared to deal with the consequences. I'm sure Tyler will be back in class in no time." His own words were bitter to swallow.

“Back in class? You’re takin’ the piss, right?” Thomas laughed.

“Excuse me?”

“Mr Dun, everyone knows you don’t come back from max.”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s where they’ve taken him. I mean, if you’re lucky as shit, they let you back up here but he ain’t ever gonna be the same. I only ever met one guy that came back from downstairs.”

“And?” Josh pressed, draw in as much as the students. Thomas threw his gaze to the floor and shook his head.

“The shit they do down there, it’s not right. Told me some real nasty shit. Said it’s never quiet down there ‘cause all you can hear is the other prisoner’s cryin’. They keep you down there till they break you and if you’re broken enough, they send you back as a warnin’ to everyone else.”

Josh felt bile tingle the back of his throat and forced himself to swallow it. He nibbled on his lip as the class began interrogating Thomas.

 Tyler was in need of extensive medical help and counselling, he couldn’t be locked away in a place Josh wasn’t authorised to enter. The thought worried him more than he liked.

\--

Tyler curled his fingertips further into his tangled hair. The cries and woes of the other prisoners were echoing around his head, invading his every breath. He needed sunlight, air and water. His body felt weak; almost empty. He’d lost count of the days he’d been trapped between the walls of his new cell. He hadn’t seen another person since they’d thrown him inside; nor had they entertained his groaning stomach.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could last.

“3565!”

The call was followed by two sharp knocks against his door. The bolt slid across and two armed guards entered his cell.

“Fuck, it smells disgusting in here. You been shittin’ yourself, you stupid fuck?” one of the guards growled. Tyler didn’t respond. The other guard laughed and kicked at Tyler’s feet.

“Hey, you still alive? He asked you a fuckin’ question.”

 “I expect a fucking answer!” he bellowed, grabbing Tyler by the back of the neck and dragging him toward the toilet. Tyler was forced to his knees, too weak to resist the pressure. His face lingered above the mucky brown sludge in the toilet, the smell burning his nostrils. He gagged into the bowl as the guard pushed him further. He was inches above the waste, vomit threatening to burst through his lips.

“You see that? Your shit just sittin’ in here with you? You ain’t even worth that,” he spat, throwing Tyler away from the toilet. He scrambled away as far as possible, coughing and wheezing in the slighter fresher air.

“It’s your lucky day. You got a visitor.”

“Who?” he croaked, too afraid to meet their stares. They refused to answer him as they cuffed his wrists and ankles. They dragged him along the corridors, shoving him forward when he stumbled to the ground. They were pulling him past the hospital wing, toward the private visitation area for highly secured prisoners. He glanced through the window, mouth falling slack as he spotted Kelly.

She appeared much healthier, the faint remains of the attack traceable yet healing beneath her hair. She paled instantly upon seeing Tyler, a hand slapping against her mouth. He was nearly unrecognisable to her. The look, or more so vacancy, of his eyes hurt her. Although they were nothing compared to the utter detest she’d stared into during his episode, the sheer emptiness of his expression sent an icy pain through her heart. His hair was thick with grease and dirty, skin scuffed and crusted with dried blood and fresh wounds. He turned away from her, letting himself be pushed onward and away from her painful gaze.

Josh had to know.

Tyler was harshly frisked at the entrance to the visitation area before the door was unlocked. He was pushed inside and guided to a tiny cubicle where an armed guard stood directly behind him, weapon loaded and aimed. Tyler collapsed into the uncomfortable wooden seat and did the best he could to ignore the gasping cries from opposite.

“ _Tyler.”_

“Hi, Mom.”

 

 


	6. Where have you gone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read with care.  
> Triggers present throughout this chapter.
> 
> Sorry about the double update, feeling inspired.  
> xx

Tyler couldn’t lift his stare. His pupil’s drank in the stained legs of the chair supporting him. His mother’s figure moved across the peripheral horizon, pressing a hand against the thick plastic shield separating them.

“Hey, Honey.”

The thickness of her voice spoke volumes to Tyler. His leg trembled beneath the pressure of his grip.

“Please look at me,” she whispered. Tyler did all he could think to do; block his emotions. A pair of hardened eyes glared through a sweat soaked fringe. His mother was shaking with fragmented sobs, natural face pale and thinned. Her once kempt hair was frazzled, spilling from its usual perfection.

“Speak to me, Tyler. I need to hear your voice. I’ve been trying to visit since you got here, I promise. They’ve been so strict, I-I couldn’t- I tried.”

He swiped a dry tongue across cracked lips, enjoying the sharp sizzle of a reopened wound.

“Tyler, what’s going on? What have they _done_ to you?”

“I did something bad.”

“They haven’t told me anything! I’ve been calling every day. Everyone misses you.”

“Spare me the bullshit. Why are you here?” Tyler snorted, crossing his arms as the familiar embrace of confidence engulfed him. His burning lip curled into a grimace, nose wrinkled in revulsion. She instantly retreats, hand falling from the barrier to her lap. A look of recognition and defeat masks her distraught expression.

“I miss you, Tyler. The house isn’t the same anymore.” Tears spring along lashes, threatening to spill. Tyler scoffs and runs a hand through his hair, brushing it away and leaning forward.

“Whose fucking fault is that?”

“This was for your own good! You know that. You _knew_ that. You- you were hurting people, Ty. You weren’t yourself.”

He titled his aggravated expression to the left, eyes wandering the shell of the mother he once knew.

“My own good? Probably would’ve been more beneficial to put a fuckin’ bullet through my brain. So, maybe when I get out of here, you can tell Dad that it’s all okay, he can fuckin’ do exactly what he wanted but didn’t have the balls to.”

Tyler was suddenly more aware of the guard behind him, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of the conversation. His mother, too, seemed cautious of the secrets spilling from her son’s mouth. She warned him silently.

“It was a tough time for everyone-“

“I don’t have to listen to this shit,” Tyler spat, abruptly pushing his chair back and clambering to a stand. The guard’s reaction was immediate, his foot slamming down against Tyler’s back. The boy crumbled against the plastic, face contorted; eyes remaining cold and threatening. His mother shrieked, darting away from the shield and watching in horror as they threw Tyler against the ground before twisting his thinning arms into cuffs.

“Take this little shit back to max,” one of the guard’s grunted, wiping a layer of sweat from his forehead. He glanced to Tyler’s mother, visibly upset by the distressing scene. He bit back a laugh and shrugged.

“Protocol.”

She was left alone.

\--

“No, please! Let me go back! Please!” Tyler screamed, tears cascading along his sunken cheek bones. He writhed in the tight grasp of the guards, frantically trying to escape their clutches. He had let himself disappear before his mother, the only person of the Joseph family that still believed Tyler had a shred of goodness in his body. The panic of her seeing him so beaten and weak had driven his worry into overload, forcibly removing his ability to cope with the stress of her worried glare. The guards reeled in his misery, soaking up his cries and pleas. His record was tuned to the same station as the prisoners lining the cells in max. They mocked his sorrow until Tyler was thrown back into the depths of his rotten cell.

Chest heaving and constricting, Tyler threw his body against the door again and again.

“Let me out! Let me out! _Please.”_

_“Stop pleading. You are making us appear weak.”_

Tyler growled, clutching at the strands of his hair.

“I am weak! You’re not me! Please,” he sobbed.

“ _I can fix this.”_

“Wh-what?”

“ _I can get us out of here.”_

“I’m not hurting anybody. I’ve hurt enough innocent people.”

“ _You are not innocent, Tyler. Give me control. I will get us out of here.”_

Before Tyler could reject, he felt a soothing numbness inject throughout his body; as though his blood had warmed and his bones melted. Tyler watched his hands remove his t-shirt and rip the fabric apart to create one, thin strip of material. His fingers danced through one another, fashioning a noose with expertise.

“ _They’ll feed you tonight. That is when we make our move.”_

Tyler allowed his body to shuffle around the cell as though he were watching a movie. The hands beneath him folded the camping mat into a stiff square, placing it directly beneath the looming bulb. He quickly tied the noose to the end of the dangling wire. The blanket was wrapped around his right fist and remained tied until the evening rolled by.

“ _They’ll be here any minute.”_

He felt his legs balancing on top of the camping mat, watched as the cushioned hand reached forward and encircled the flickering bulb until the smashed quietly. The fragments fell to the ground as the cell dissented into complete darkness. Tyler knew panic should be sparking through his body, but the overwhelming comfort was a mere distraction to what was happening.

“ _Any minute now.”_

The make shift noose slid around his neck as the camping mat wobbled furiously. Tyler heard the bolt of his door slid open as his feet slipped from the mat. He was in full control of his body, as light from the corridor flooded into the room. The guard dropped the plastic tray, grey sludge splashing the front of his uniform. Tyler could hear nothing but the rushing blood pounding through his head. He clawed desperately at the pressure against his throat, face darkening in colour as they room blurred. The guard was screaming, calling for back up. He ran to Tyler, jumping at the wire and slicing through it with ease. Tyler’s body crumbled to the ground, shards of broken bulb piercing his exposed chest and arms. Tyler relished in the sweet relief of air, lungs expanding and rejoicing.

He felt himself being turned over, a harsh light being shined into dilated pupils.

“Kid, can you hear me? Hey!”

_“Do not answer them.”_

“Shit, he’s not responsive! Fuck! Kid, can you hear me?”

“Fuck!” one of the other guards yelled, pounding a fist into the door. “Get him to medical, **_now._ ”**

“ _You’re welcome.”_

Tyler fell into a daze, letting himself be transferred onto a stretcher and carried out of the cell. The silence of the corridor was deafening. Sets of doors crashed open as his stretcher bashed into them, frantic calls from guards to doctors filling his ears. He was rushed into a medical room as a pair of medics examined his injuries.

“What the hell happened?” they fussed. Tyler was aware of a burning pair of eyes watching him.

“Attempted suicide. Been in max a few days.”

“A few days?” the doctor spat. “What the fuck have you done to him?”

The guard stepped forward menacingly, hand finding comfort with the grasp of his gun. The doctor raised an eyebrow.

“He’s just another delinquent, doctor. Don’t be a fuckin’ hero.”

“Get the fuck off my wing. Now.”

Tyler rolled his head to the left, meeting the sharp gaze beside him. Kelly was heartbroken, staring at Tyler through bruised and glistening eyes. He smirked at her, winking at her through his pain.

“ _Good boy.”_

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Miles Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyler would recognize that tattoo anywhere.

“Kelly?”

“Josh, come in!”

Kelly’s office had returned to its original manner, save for the empty space where the paperweight once lay. Josh staggered to her desk, rolling his shoulders to rid himself of the familiar sense of dread.

“How’re you feeling?”

“I’m a little shaken,” she sighed, setting herself on the opposite side of the desk. “I’m certainly doing better than Tyler. They’ve got him on lock down in the medical wing.”

“Shit, what did he do? I tried to get into max to speak with him but they wouldn’t give me access.”

“Only the guards and specific therapists are allowed down there. Trust me, Josh, you wouldn’t want to see it.”

“Is it really that bad?”

Kelly’s eyelids fluttered to a close. She brushed her tangled fringe away from her face, exposing the fading, yellow tinge Tyler had left behind.

“I don’t know how it’s allowed, Josh. They treat them like _animals._ Tyler, he- he tried to hang himself. They hadn’t fed him since he got down there, he looked awful. I’ve got an appointment with him later today.”

“You’re still treating him? I would’ve thought you’d have signed off his case.”

“This attack was my fault, Josh.”

“No-“

“I should’ve seen it coming. I let him charm me when I should’ve been paying closer attention to the way he was acting. We’ve made such significant progress that I fear a change in therapist would set him back even further. Admittedly, I’m nervous but it’s all part of the job, I’m afraid.”

Josh nodded thoughtfully and gestured for Kelly to continue.

“His mother came to visit him which I think may have triggered this. I’m re-reading his files, I need to look at things from a new perspective. I forbid him going back to max. It’s too much of a risk to his mental health.”

“Is he safe enough to be with the others, though? What if he snaps again? It took us _days_ to restore order. Most of the kids in my class are still riled up about it.”

“With the right medication, yes. After I’ve spoken to him today, I’ll asses his case and make changes as I see fit. Once I’ve prescribed him new medication, I want him to return to class, but only if you’re comfortable. He needs familiarity and a strict routine.”

“Er, I guess. If you think that’s what’s best. Thanks for keeping me in the loop, Kelly. If you need anythin’, just let me know. I’ve got a class but I could always come see you later?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she smiled, watching as Josh waved goodbye and disappeared through the door. She picked up the steaming mug to her left, grinning into a mouthful of bitter coffee.

\--

Kelly hesitated outside of Tyler’s door. She could see the boy through the window as her stared silently at the bed sheets swaddling him. He looked innocent amongst the harsh white of the blanket, wrapped in fabric and vacant in his expression. She composed herself with a deep breath and knocked thrice on the door.

“Hi, Tyler. It’s good to see you again.”

Tyler didn’t respond, just lifted his gaze from the sheets to her face.

“You’re going to have to talk to me, Tyler. You should be heading back to max but I’ve pulled some strings. You’re lucky I’m giving you this opportunity.”

“I’d rather hang myself than go back down there,” he scoffed, leaning his head back against the pillows to expose the thick bruising around his neck. His voice was strained as he relaxed slightly, turning to face Kelly in the hard plastic chair beside him.

“I heard your mother came to visit. How was that?”

“She doesn’t know me anymore,” Tyler shrugged. “It’s easier that way.”

“Why is it easier?”

“I don’t feel like I’m letting her down anymore. When I was her son, she was always so broken up about me and the shit I was gettin’ myself into. Now she doesn’t really know me, I don’t feel like I owe her anything.”

Kelly was surprised at how open Tyler was being, despite the situation. She was pleased he hadn’t fully retreated into himself like she’d expected.

“That’s interesting. Do you still see her as your mother?”

“I lost my family a long time ago. When I didn’t fit the cut out they’d made for me, I had to find a new family; which I did. I guess I fit in a lot more there.”

“You’re new family being with Paolo?”

The ghost of a smile tickled his lips. He closed his eyes and imagined Paolo raging war through the prison to save him. He had no doubt that had Paolo still been alive; he’d have never been there in the first place.

“Yeah. It didn’t matter that what he was doin’ was fucked up. He loved everything about me that my parents hated and that’s all that I cared about. He made me feel special. He was _proud_ of me.”

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe he was so appraising to keep you around? So you’d do what he asked of you?”

“Don’t- don’t ruin it for me, please. Not- yet. Paolo cared about me different than the rest. The other boys were just runners for him, but I was different. They didn’t know him like I did.”

Kelly raised an eyebrow, intrigued in Tyler’s words. He’d never delved so deep into his relationship with Paolo, always claiming that their memories were just that; _theirs._

“Did you two hit it off straight away?”

“No,” Tyler chucked, glancing at her with loving eyes. “We fought a lot at the start. I didn’t like that he was never around. He always expected us to do work for him but was never around to thank us, y’know? Told one of his friends, Luca, that I was pissed about it and next day, I was called into his office. I thought he was goin’ to shoot me or somethin’.”

“And what happened?” Kelly pressed. Tyler shrugged and fingered the edge of the blanket as he replayed the memory in his mind.

“We fucked for the first time.”

 --

Two weeks later saw Tyler’s return to the main cells. Kelly has insisted on daily meetings and an array of medical trails to locate the right medication to control his urges. Tyler had been anxious pending his homecoming. He feared what his fellow prisoners had heard and what they were to think. Watching the clock slowed time down enough for Tyler to catch his breath when the panic set and smothered him.

“ _They’ll be coming for you soon. Are you ready?”_

“It’s going to fine. Kelly promised.”

_“These people lie to get what they want. You know that.”_

“Kelly’s different,” Tyler muttered, eyes subconsciously counting the cracked ceiling tiles. “She cares about me. She cares about what I have to say.”

_“It’s a shame you’re so naive, Tyler. You have such potential.”_

“He used to tell me that...”

_“Paolo was a smart man. Don’t you want to make him proud?”_

Tyler chewed the inside of his mouth, ignoring the trickles of blood dancing along his tongue. The metallic taste pushed him further into the memories that lingered as a constant threat.

“Of course I do! That’s all I ever wanted to do.”

_“You think he’ll be proud seeing you fucking scared to go back? Are you going to cry? What about when people ask questions? You’re an embarrassment.”_

“I’m not gonna cry! Fuck off,” he grunted, turning to his side to watch the hands of the clock slowly drag themselves in circles.

_“Your head must be held high. You must not let them sense weakness. They will be expecting submission.”_

“Do- do you really think he’d be embarrassed?” Tyler whispered, suddenly feeling so small in comparison to the empty room swallowing him. He curled tighter beneath the blanket, squeezing his eyes closed to place a block between himself and reality.

_“Let me help you, Tyler. I can help you make him proud.”_

“Promise?”

_“I promise.”_

The sun arose, the warmth blaring through the window and preparing Tyler for the day ahead. The guards were armed yet had been replaced by those with an ability to sympathise. They gently tugged Tyler from his nest and ordered him to get changed. He maintained eye contact as he slid from his sleep wear and into the jumper and sweat pants they’d handed him.

“This isn’t really my colour,” he yawned as they pulled his arms behind his back and placed his wrists in cuffs.

“Cute,” one of the guards snapped. “Walk.”

Tyler was lead through familiar corridors, the faint sense of worry quickly disappearing beneath a wicked sense of excitement. He strutted beside the officers with confidence, smirking at the female guards as they avoided his beading eyes. Those escorting him felt uncomfortable at his bitter change in attitude.

“You’re goin’ straight to your cell. Your therapist will be there shortly for a session and then you may have breakfast.”

“Oh, you do spoil me.”

“We have to stop by Josh’s room, remember,” the youngest of the guards mumbled. “Pick up somethin’ to get him up to date. Kelly’s orders.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Tyler’s body flushed in a wave of anticipation and heat. They roughly shoved him against the wall as they knocked on the classroom door. The class immediately turned their attention to the smirking face peering around the door frame. Josh stumbled over his sentence, clearing his throat and placing the book on his desk.

“Hey, teach,” Tyler sniffed. “Good to see ya!”

The students gawped up in a mixture of nerves and confusion.

“ _I told you. They hoped you’d be broken.”_

“Tyler. Yes, I- glad to see you’re well. I’ve put together a package for you to read before you attend class again. It should get you up to date.”

Another knock on the door interrupted their discussion. A pair of guards carrying a huffing teenager pushed through Tyler’s guards, causing the boy to snarl at the intruder. His mousse brown was longer on the top, falling across his tanned features. The sides were shaved and did little to mask the small tattoo behind the back of his ear.

Tyler would recognise that tattoo anywhere.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting you until next period! I did warn Kelly I was getting a new student today. Come to the front please, introduce yourself.”

“No fucking need, I can tell you exactly who he is.”

“Shut it, kid,” one of Tyler’s guards warned. They began to drag him from the classroom. “You gotta go to your cell and wait for your therapist.”

Josh watched anxiously as the new boy twisted in the harsh grasp in which he was trapped. When his eyes connected with Tyler, a sharp, bitter laugh rolled over his cracked lips.

“Well, fuck me. Tyler Joseph, you’re still alive.”

Before Tyler could respond, he was pulled from the room and forced along the corridor to his cell. He was hissing and growling between the guards, desperate to return to Josh’s room. Josh swallowed and clapped his hands, retrieving the broken attention of his class. He was overly intrigued with the connection between the two boys.  

“I’m sorry about that. Poor timing. Would you like to introduce yourself to us?”

“Looks like I’ve already had quite the introduction, Sir.”

==

Tyler was forced through the door of his cell, locked inside like a crazed lion. He prowled the area of the room, scraping his nails against the wall, ignoring the stinging pain as they split and bled. A short while later, Kelly knocked on his door and entered with a gentle smile. Tyler kept his back facing her.

“Good morning, Tyler. You excited to be back?”

He felt the rancid snarl curl across his lips.

“What the fuck is John O’Callaghan doing here?”

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Empty With You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this story is going in a direction everyone is enjoying   
> xx

“Tyler, this is a young offender’s institution. My guess? He’s a young offender.”

Tyler arched an eyebrow at Kelly’s quip. She smiled at him gently, motioning to the edge of his bed.

“Please, take a seat. I have other patient’s to see today.”

Tyler felt unimportant. Kelly had never expressed the need to hurry their meetings in favour of other prisoners. She was flicking absentmindedly through his file, barely reading the endless paragraphs which declared what Tyler was; according to their definition. An oddly memorable sense of betrayal swallowed him; he didn’t want Kelly forget Tyler’s importance, forget what he was capable of.

 “Did you bring him in here on purpose?” he spat, watching her for any trace of untruth.

“Why would I do that?”

“To fuck with me? Give me some fucked up reminder of everything that happened before here.”

“If you’re under the impression that I have detained a teenage boy in a juvenile detention centre in order to hinder your progress, Tyler, then I’m sorry to say that you’re wrong. John is here for the same reason you are; to get help and face the consequences of his actions.”

“And I bet you know all about them, right?” Tyler set himself on the edge of the bed, sitting cross legged with a stone cold grimace.

“I’m not here to talk about John. I’m here to talk about you.”

“I and he are one and the same. We were bred on the same beliefs, fed the same promises. Some of us were just better at the job.”

Kelly nodded thoughtfully, scribbling what Tyler supposed what textbook nonsense into the notepad in her lap. He knew what she thought of him and how all of his mistakes had shaped him into the paranoid mess he was.  They danced around topics for the better part of an hour before the groaning from Tyler’s stomach flooded the room. She closed her notepad and threw him a sympathetic grin.

“You’re free to get some food now. Tyler, I promise John isn’t in here to mess with you. Play nice.”

“As always.”

\--

The canteen was as dreary and contaminated as he remembered. Groups were crowded around socially designated tables, joking and mingling amongst themselves. Tyler hadn’t had the time to find a group that would accept him, despite being in the facility for almost two months. He strutted confidently toward the queue, grabbing a plastic tray on his way. He spied Josh talking lazily with one Kelly in a discarded corner, making her giggle and blush. He turned his nose at the pair and placed himself at the back of the queue, surveying the scene around him.

“Boo!”

Tyler jumped and spun on his heel. John’s grinning face stood behind him, looking down with a cocked brow.

“Thought I’d seen the last of you,” Tyler spat, turning to face the front and grinding his teeth.

“Aw, don’t be like that! We shared a dick, Tyler. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” he prodded, enjoying the sight of Tyler’s shoulder blades rolling under his jumper. Tyler’s brain was abusing him; images of John and Paolo, tweaked into oblivion and bent over his desk – just like Tyler had been when he’d shown bravery.

“He told me you were an easy fuck. Don’t take it personally,” Tyler spat. John rolled his eyes and bumped his shoulder.

“Take it personally? Tyler, do you really think I care? The only ones he didn’t fuck were the pretty girls,” John scoffed. “He was a greasy mobster who brainwashed fucked up teenagers into bein’ his runners and gettin’ their hands dirty.” He brought himself closer to Tyler’s tense back, whispering in his ear. “You think he fucked you ‘cause he admired your bravery? Please. He _fucked_ you to keep you under control. Just like me.” John trailed his fingertips across Tyler’s elbow and the boy faded into the fragmented segments of his memories.

\--

_“You look tired, my boy.”_

_Paolo sat behind his desk, weighing out an endless stack of small, white bundles. He licked his lips, almost as though a nervous tick of his, occasionally glancing up at Tyler. He was curled into a ball in one of the large chairs in Paolo’s office._

_“I was out pretty late,” Tyler yawned, willing his mind to rest. “Sold all my stash.”_

_“And the rave? Good, yes?”_

_“It was okay. The crowd seemed more interested in the flake than the music,” he pouted, tracing the sewn lining of the chair with a calloused fingertip. Paolo chortled from his position, staring at Tyler and grinning wickedly._

_“You are a maverick with too little sense. These people, Tyler, they are not like you. They do not want to appreciate the music. They want to appreciate this,” he nodded, holding one of the bundles in his palm. “The music, to them, only becomes magical when they are transported elsewhere. You remember your first time? You said to me, you said that felt like you were in the centre of the universe, all one your own – yet you’d never felt so in touch with everyone around you. They are always chasing that feeling.”_

_“Don’t you ever feel bad about it?”_

_Paolo stopped in his tracks and moved his gaze to where Tyler sat. He pushed himself up and strutted to the chair. Crouching to Tyler’s level, he gently caressed his face, admiring the younger boy’s beauty and innocence._

_“You will learn, my dear. You have so much potential. You have so much passion. I see so much of who I used to be in you. Perhaps that is why you’re my favourite.”_

_\--_

“Take your fuckin’ hand off him, man.”

Tyler snapped back into reality, turning his head to face the voice that brought him back. The canteen had stilled in it’s manner, eyes trained to the scene around him. John’s fingers slowly uncurled from his elbow, the pressure gone and with it, a sense of relief. A muscular, yet slightly short, dark haired boy stood before them; angry snarl written over his features. John crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

“Who’re you?” Tyler inquired, gaze dancing over the tattoos that littered the boy’s skin. The small holes in the boy’s nose and lips told Tyler that small rings used to sit there.

“Names Frank. You’re Tyler, right?”

“What’s it to you?”

John watched the scene unfold nervously.

“No need to front, man,” Frank sighed. “We’ve heard a lot about you. Come eat with us. Brendon wants to speak with you.”

Tyler collected his sludge and water, following Frank to one of the smaller tables at the back of the canteen, leaving John with a sour taste. He was vaguely aware of the eyes of his teacher and therapist burning holes in the back of his head. The table held five occupied seats and one vacant seat beside Frank.

He sat down and peered around the group.

“Tyler, it’s good to finally meet you. I’m Brendon,” the boy opposite smirked, offering a hand. Tyler shook it, confused as to why he’d been invited to eat lunch with them.

“ _Find out what they want. Keep your guard up. You are being watched.”_

“Okay. Why am I here?”

“Relax. We’ve heard a lot about you. Heard about the shit you pulled to get out of max. That’s some rough shit, man. I lost a good friend to max in another facility. I got transferred to this shithole after I nearly murdered the guard who shot him.”

_“Do not act impressed. They are beneath you.”_

“I see. What does that have to do with me?”

Brendon raised his hands and laughed.

“We just wanted a chat, is all.”

“What’re you all here for?” Tyler prodded, eyes falling on Frank as he shrugged.

“I kinda went a bit crazy, I guess. Did a few hit and runs with my boyfriend. He brings out the worst in me,” the short boy huffed.

“I know what that’s like,” Tyler sighed. The group broke into laughter, giving Tyler the sense of belonging he’d been searching for. A bolt of pride stroked his ego.

“Your reputation precedes you, Tyler.”

Josh and Kelly ran their hands through tousled hair as they watched Tyler interact with Brendon and his crew.

“I don’t like this,” Kelly fussed. “This could completely break him.”

“Would it really be so bad? He must get lonely,” Josh shrugged.

“Tyler is in a crucial stage of his recovery. This part of recognising his problems is so important. Getting involved with the wrong crowd could send him into a psychotic break, Josh. We can’t let him to that to himself.”

“What can we do?”

“You have a class with him tomorrow, right? Keep him behind. Do some one on one. He needs positive and friendly influences and I think you’re the best person for the job.”

Josh nibbled the inside of his lip, watching Tyler and Brendon shake hands again.

“How friendly are we talkin’?”


	9. Back To Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: violence, beating, abuse. 
> 
> Read with caution  
> xx

After dinner, the boys were entitled to yard time. The sun beat down across the stretch of concrete, making those playing basketball sweat and tire. Tyler was instructed to follow Brendon and his crew; which he did. They sat beneath a remote collection of trees in a distant corner, smoking cigarettes and sharing stories.

“So, what d’ya say, Tyler?”

“About?”

“How ‘bout you join us? Must get real lonely bein’ morose all by yourself. Plus, if you join us, you could have eyes watchin’ your back at all times. Frankie stepped in against that John kid, right? Just say the word and we’ll finish the job.”

Tyler quirked an eyebrow, smothering the butt of his cigarette with his shoe. He awaited the response of the voice that plagued his mind; yet no guidance came.

“Thanks for the offer-“

“Think about it,” Gerard mused, slicking back a strand of greasy, raven hair. “What if he gets to you first? And you got no one around to protect you. We’re not sayin’ you _need_ protection but it ain’t a bad thing to have, you get me? I know plenty of guys that went it solo and ended up more fucked up than you ever seen.”

“Yeah and it’s not like we’re just your bodyguards or somethin’,” Frank shrugged, offering Tyler another cigarette. “You must feel lonely sometimes, right?”

“Fuck it. Why not?”

The crew shook Tyler’s hand, pleased to have persuaded him.

“You won’t regret this,” Brendon promised.

The guard’s blew their whistles, signalling it was time to return to their cells. They planned to meet up at lunch the following day and Tyler was embarrassingly excited. For the first time since his arrival, he fell into a peaceful slumber with a smile on his face.

-

Midnight fell throughout the prison and John was finishing up in the toilets. He stared at himself in the cracked, smudged mirror and sighed.

“Get yourself together.”

He had regrets that he’d learned to live with and some he’d yet to overcome. He hadn’t been made aware that Tyler was in the same prison and it made the process that much more difficult. There was something about the boy that intrigued him and he knew the same charm had worked with Paolo. It was effortless – the way he commanded attention. He remembered being close with Tyler in the weeks leading up to his first sexual encounter with the boss but the moment Tyler had burst through the door and seen Paolo balls deep, coke powdering his face, he knew the boy loathed him. It was like something in him had snapped, like a fire John had never seen before set alight behind piercing eyes. In that moment, John had been terrified of Tyler.

He found himself wondering if Tyler knew what he’d done or if he’d blocked it out.  

“O’Callaghan.”

John spun on his heels, gripping the sink with white knuckles. Gerard, Brendon and Frank stood behind him, half hidden by a mask of shadows. John could see they each bared a sock with something wrapped up in the foot.

“Th-there’s a guard outside,” he swallowed, cursing himself for showing weakness. Frank laughed, mocking his innocence.

“Not anymore. It’s crazy how a little sniff can _really_ change a person’s morals.”

John screwed him eyes to a close, painfully aware of how he had no chance of escape.

“Why? What have I done to you?”

Gerard grabbed his hair roughly, tugging it back to expose his neck.

“Think of this as a welcome present, love from Tyler.”

Brendon swung the sock into his stomach, causing him to cry out in pain.

“Keep that fuckin’ mouth shut!”

His soapy flannel was shoved into his mouth; the suds sliding down the back of his neck and making him gag. The three boys pummelled him with their socks, winding him and beating him to the floor. Gerard threw his foot down across John’s face, blood spraying the tiles beneath them. He vomited over the flannel, the force pushing the fabric out of his mouth.

“Please, stop!” he cried, cowering underneath them. Brendon grabbed him and threw him against the wall, forcing a hand over his bruised neck.

“You say a fuckin’ word and that face of yours won’t be so fuckin’ pretty, understand?” John furiously nodded his head, heaving in relief as he was dropped the ground. The boys fled, leaving him to sob in the bitter silence of the empty bathroom.

-

“Shit, it’s past midnight,” Josh yawned, piling the remainder of unmarked work and shoving it in his briefcase. He’d been dreading the backlog of marking and was going to have to put the work in the get it finished in time. He locked his classroom door and stumbled toward the entrance. Through the emptiness of the corridors, Josh could hear a distant weeping. He followed the sound to one of the boy’s bathrooms.  He knocked attentively on the door.

“Hello? Anyone is here?”

“Please! I swear I won’t say anything!” the boy in the corner cried, shielding his face from Josh. He could see the blood and vomit swirling together across the tiles.

“Jesus Christ!” Josh rushed over, discarding his bag by the door. He knelt down in front of the boy, palms out to show he meant no harm.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. It’s Josh, look. It’s your teacher. Can you show me your face? I’m not goin’ to hurt you.”

He slowly lowered his arms, exposing the full effect of the beating to Josh, who staggered back slightly in shock.

“Who did this to you?” he breathed, reaching out for John’s hand.

“I-I fell.”

Josh understood John couldn’t be pushed, he was clearly upset enough. He helped him stumble to his feet.

“I’m goin’ to take you to the medic wing, alright? You’re goin’ to be fine, John. Whoever did this to you, they won’t get away with it.”

John gripped onto Josh’s arm tightly, the spark of fear so bright in his eyes that Josh swore he’d been feeling it himself. He shook his head, silently pleading.

“You can’t breathe a word. You can’t! It- it won’t happen again. Please, I’m begging you; it’ll just make it worse.”

Josh had a sinking feeling he already knew who was involved. After John was comfortably situation, Josh made his sombre journey home.  He’d enjoyed his job just several weeks prior. He’d managed to create a strong connection with his student and passionately believed that with time and attention, the students could turn their lives around but the constant tragedy that snuck its way in had proven what he’d previously been told – he couldn’t do anything to change who these kids were.

-

“Yo, Tyler!”

Brendon and his crew were awaiting Tyler’s entrance at the classroom. The first thing he noticed was Frankie’s frantic eyes, his pupils fully dilated and nostrils red rimmed. He was swiping at the flick of his nose, fingering the sleeves of his jumper and smiling at Tyler with synthetic happiness.  

“Hey guys, you good?”

“Great,” Brendon smirked. The classroom slowly filled and Josh looked exhausted. Tyler couldn’t help but feel marginally at fault.

“Okay, class, today we’re going to attempt to write our own prose. I want you to make it personal and creative, so don’t be afraid to explore! The only people who’ll read these are you and I so don’t feel anxious about being judged. I’ve written my fair share of shitty literature.” The classroom erupted into giggles and brought a sense of normality to Josh, who reeled in the feeling.  

Tyler couldn’t help but notice the vacant space where John should be sat. Brendon winked at him, sensing his confusion. Tyler didn’t like the dark bubbling in his stomach. His mind had been eerily quiet in the days before and he wasn’t sure how comfortable he felt being allowed such free thought. Tyler had been conditioned to listen to the voice in his head, letting it guide him wherever it saw fit. Making his own decisions came with a new batch of anxiety and he wasn’t sure he could handle it alone.

Frankie twitched his way through the lesson and Tyler wasn’t an idiot; he knew Frankie was using. He just didn’t know what or if he could score some.

“Class dismissed. Tyler, stay seated.”

“Fuck sake,” he growled, slamming his book against his desk.

“Want us to wait?” Gerard inquired, placing an unlit cigarette between pursed lips.

“Nah, I’ll meet you guys in the canteen.”

Josh watched them leave and pulled up a seat opposite Tyler’s desk.

“How’re you feeling?”

“You’re not my fucking therapist.”

“No, but I care. I’m glad to have you back in class,” Josh nodded, trying to word his sentences right.

“Yeah, I kinda missed being talked at about useless shit when I was in max. You start to miss even the borin’ shit when all you have to look at _is_ your own shit.”

“You had to be punished, Tyler. What you did was, it was bad, but I know you’re sensible beneath this bravado and you know you did wrong. That being said, what happened to you in max should never have been allowed. I want you to know they’re looking into it.”

Tyler barked a laugh that sent Josh’s eyebrows to his hairline.

“Please, like I’m the first mentally unstable criminal to be tossed into max and abused. Hell, like you said, I _deserved_ to be punished. Did you keep me behind to play therapist or did you have something meaningful to say?”

Josh knew the words about to pool out of his mouth were completely wrong. He knew he shouldn’t have mentioned it before speaking to Kelly but he couldn’t stop it.

“I know what you did to John.”

Tyler’s cold eyes shot to Josh.

“Excuse me?”

“I stayed late last night, Tyler. I was doing some marking and when I was leaving, I heard John. He was severally beaten, lying on the ground in the boy’s toilets. I know you were involved.”

“Where the fuck do you get off pinnin’ that shit on me?” Tyler spat.

“You and John have history. Put two and two together and-“

“Well, thank fuck you’re not a math teacher, eh? ‘Cause you’re fuckin’ wrong. I didn’t do shit to him!”

_“They did that for you. To earn your respect.”_

Tyler’s lip twitched into a smile, _thank god_ the comfort of the voice was back.

“I want to help you. You have so much potential-“

“Shut up! Just, shut the fuck up! You don’t know anything about me! You just saw some hopeless lost cause and thought it’d look real fuckin’ sweet if you could save him from himself, right? You thought that maybe if you taught me to read or write a fuckin’ prose, you’d get a nice pat on the back from head office. Well, fuck you! I don’t need this shit ‘cause I bet _anything_ that if I ever get outta here, I’m gonna be straight back in the game. I may not be able to write a fuckin’ poem but I can sure as shit shot an ounce quicker than your fancy ass could.”

Josh pursed his lips and nodded.

“I’m sorry, I’ve obviously offended you.”

Josh wasn’t sure why he reached out and lay a hand over Tyler’s. Maybe it was the way to boy was breathing, chest rising and falling so frighteningly quick. Maybe it was desperate glint in his eye that screamed for Josh to forget everything and _help him._ Maybe it was unknown gurgle deep in his stomach that he fought so hard to ignore. Tyler glanced at the tanned hand resting on his own. There was something about the gentleness, the sincerity of the action that broke him.

“I wish I never came here,” Tyler whispered. “I wish it’d been me that’d been shot that day.”

“Tyler, don’t say that.”

“I have to go, I’m missin’ lunch,” the boy huffed, pushing his chair back and disappearing. Josh rested his head in his hands and noticed Tyler’s work book. He opened the first page to read the opening of Tyler’s prose but instead, he found six words, repeatedly scribbled down the page.

_I didn’t want to do it._

-

Tyler met Brendon and his crew in the canteen, a tray of food already in place for him at the table. Frankie greeted him with a smile and he fell into the course of conversation quickly. Brendon noticed how tense he was and pulled him to the side during yard time.

“What did that teacher have to stay? You looked pretty cut up in the canteen.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, man. Usual shit, y’know? I can handle it.”

“If you’re sure,” Brendon shrugged, beginning to head back to the group.

“Hey, wait,” Tyler whispered, pulling Brendon an few extra steps away. He licked his lips nervously and sighed. He wanted to ask Brendon about what had happened to John but there were things he cared for more.

“Listen, I know you’re holdin’. Frankie can barely keep his jaw and eyes in line. Think I could score?”

Brendon simply grinned, shoving Tyler toward the toilet.

“For you? Always.”

They sniffed two lines each in the toilet and Tyler had to admit, he missed the heat and the rush. His eyes were burning and the taste was unpleasant but he hadn’t felt so uplifted in weeks.

“Good shit, right?”

“Not bad,” Tyler nodded. “Ah shit, I got therapy in ten minutes.”

 Brendon laughed loudly.

“Good luck, bro.”

-

Kelly watched Tyler uncomfortably fidget under her stare. Josh had been to visit her just before, showing her what he’d found in Tyler’s work book. She was desperate to unravel his secrets; secrets that Tyler didn’t even know he was keeping from himself.

“I want to try something new today.”

“Yeah?” Tyler muttered, more interested in the cracked nail of his thumb between his teeth.

“Have you ever been hypnotised?”


	10. Cavity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter but I had a bunch written that I've been sectioning into chapters, hence frequent updates.
> 
> I will do my best to not abandon this story for weeks.
> 
> As always, read with caution!  
> xx

“And when I clap my hands, you will awaken. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Tyler muttered, eyes closed in deep hypnosis. He lay flat out against the leather couch in the corner of Kelly’s office. His hands were rested, trembling slightly, against his stomach. He was blissfully unaware of the reality around him, focused solely on the deep relaxation fluttering over his body.

“How are you feeling, Tyler?”

Tyler swallowed, internally searching his mind for the truth.

“Confused.”

“What’re you confused about?”

“Who I am.”

“Do you like who you are, Tyler?”

Tyler flinched in his comfort, face contorting for a fraction of a second before settling to its peaceful demeanour.

“Part of me. There is darkness in me that I can’t control.”

Kelly inched forward in her seat, furiously scribbling notes in the pad on her knee.

“Tell me about this darkness. Where does it come from?”

“It guides me,” Tyler whispered, fingers somewhat curling inward.

“Does it tell you to do bad things?”

“No. Helps me. Helps me see what is going on. Without it, I wouldn’t be here.” His voice was a soft juxtaposition to the actuality of his words. Kelly arched an eyebrow in interest.

“You wouldn’t be in prison?” she inquired. He remained silent for a beat, as though considering the weight of his next response. He lulled his head to the left, turning away from Kelly’s harsh glare.

“Wouldn’t be here. Alive. He has saved my life and now I must listen.”

“Does _he_ make you feel like you now owe him your life? Because he somehow saved yours?”

Tyler groaned low in his throat, a gurgle hurling out. His hands crept toward the neckline of his jumper, tugging it down as though he were too hot. Kelly decided to push further.

“Tyler, what would happen if you were to disobey him?”

“No,” Tyler croaked, shaking his head and pushing his body deeper into the couch as a means of escape. “Not possible.”

“Let’s say for a moment that it _is_ possible. How would that make you feel?”

Tyler pouted, turning and curling in on himself, this time facing his therapist. He looked vulnerable beneath the harsh lights of the office, clutching at the fabric of his jumper and burying his face in the pillow.

“Alone. Scared. I was weak before him but I’m strong now. He looks after me when I need it most.”

“When do you think that is? That you need his guidance the most.”

Tyler giggled, biting his lip around a smirk. The immediate shift in attitude startled Kelly before she collected herself and noted it. She had done hypnotism on several of her patients and found it to be an effective way of unlocking hidden issues that had found their way to the darker areas of their memories. Kelly _knew_ what she needed to draw from Tyler to properly begin his healing process but the seriousness of the situation was indefinitely going to break him and she was aware of how gentle she must be.

 “When I’m bad.”

“Did _he_ tell you that unlocking the cells was a good idea?”

Tyler nodded his head before his expression breezed to one of importance.

“No more. He’s angry. Very, very angry.”

“Why is he angry, Tyler?”

When the boy didn’t respond, Kelly rephrased the question.

“Who is he angry at?”

“You’re being bad. You’re being bad! Too many questions. Never ask questions.”

Tyler was becoming distressed, pulling harder on his jumper as his cheeks flared a vivid maroon. Kelly abruptly clapped her hands, Tyler’s eyes shooting open in fear.

“What happened?” he gasped, quickly removing his jumper, feeling as though he were swelling with heat. Kelly was surprised to see a litter of tattoos peppering the boy’s stomach. Some of them were normal, yet Kelly could recognise two gang signs across his hips. His collar was smothered in deep, angry nail marks.

“You become distressed. Don’t worry, I woke you up in time.”

“I didn’t like it,” Tyler muttered, licking his dry lips and reaching for his bottle of water.

“That’s okay. No everybody feels comfortable with hypnosis but I promise you, we made good progress today! You should be proud of yourself.”

“Proud? That’s kinda fucked up,” he shrugged, slipping his jumper back over his head to cover himself.

“How so?” Kelly questioned, closing the notebook and placing it on the table separating them.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” Tyler whispered, eyes glued to the tips of his shoes.

“Of course.”

“Would- would you be proud to- to call me a son? I mean, not in a weird way just like, if you weren’t my therapist and I was exactly the same and I was still trapped in here would- would you like, I don’t know. Would you be ashamed of me?”

His broken expression flared emotions throughout Kelly. She had helped patients like Tyler before; those who made in near impossible to remain constantly professional. There was something special about him, something he himself was blissfully unaware of, that drew people in and Kelly was sure it was that innocence to his own ability that made him all the more endearing. Kelly chose not to answer right away, waiting for Tyler to meet her eyes. When he did, she was taken aback by the sadness glistening from them.

“No, Tyler. I don’t think there’s anything to be ashamed of. I think anyone would be lucky to call you their son.”

The timer in the background pinged, signalling the end of their session. Tyler was on his feet, marching through the door without hesitance. Kelly leaned back, exhaling and smothering her face with cold hands. She spun in her chair, spying Tyler’s work book on her shelf. She let it draw her in, page after page of scribbled nonsense at her fingertips. She flipped slowly, taking in every word and every rushed illustration. The lines were so blurred, she was unable to identify the majority of the pictures.

“What the hell?” she fussed, feeling a thicker page. Tyler had folded them together quite discreetly, bonding the paper together in an attempt to hide something. She work her way along the spine of the pages, unfolding and smoothing away the creases. She finally freed them, splitting them and staring at the twisted, dark image beneath her.  Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, a hand flying to cover her gaping mouth. She slammed the book to a close, tossing it careless away from her, as though the pages had scalded her skin.

“Oh no. No, no, no.”


	11. Get A Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All your comments and support mean a lot to me, especially through the tough time I'm having.
> 
> Big love to everyone.
> 
> Read with caution  
> xx

Tyler stormed his way toward Brendon’s cell, knowing his crew would most likely be in attendance. They were; all crowded into the diminutive holding space. Brendon’s eyes were blown to the brim, a constant tremble in his jaw. He was pale, hands stricken by nerves. Tyler made his appearance known, clearing his throat as the startled cell mates spotted him.

“Everything alright?”

“You fuckin’ say anything?” Brendon growled, watching Tyler with hawk like eyes.

“Say anythin’ about what?” he questioned, leaning against the bars.

“’Bout what we did to that fuckin’ kid. The one who knew about you,” Frank muttered, pacing out the tobacco into a small skin to roll a cigarette.

“Nah,” Tyler scoffed, strolling further toward the bed and retrieving the cigarette extended from Frank’s moist palm.  “I’m not a snitch. She had me doin’ some hypnosis shit. Probably just wants to know if I subconsciously wanna bang her, man.”

The group fell into its usual flow, jokes and memories shared between the boys. Tyler knew Kelly thought their alliance was a deep mistake but they had been compelling in their argument; prison _did_ get lonely. Brendon offered him a thick stripe of cocaine on top of a broken shard of mirror. He glanced to the door, appearing uneasy. Gerard rolled his eyes with a wicked smirk.

“Tyler, you worry too much. Brendon’s had every guard on this whole wing wired for weeks. They get a share, they don’t say shit.”

“What, they just let you do this? They don’t care?”

“Good sniff, man,” Brendon shrugs, face wild and frantic. “Can fuck anybody up. Even pigs.”

“You make money off this shit?” Tyler inquires, leaning down and snorting the line with ease. He pinched his nostrils with a groan, the chemical taste overpowering throughout his body. His tongue rolled against the flavour as it slowly dripped down the back of his throat. He shuddered against the crew’s bemusement.

“Yeah, man. Considerin’ I’m basically in prison, my bank ain’t on lock down. I’ve been here a while now, I got people shottin’ for me. Most of these guys do, part from little Frankie over here!” Brendon smiled warmly, running his hand through Frank’s ruffled hair. The shorter boy blushed beneath his touch and Tyler felt an unwelcomed similarity between himself and Paolo. Gerard glared at the pair, a jealous spark burning from his eyes; so heated and concentrated, Tyler could’ve sworn he could feel the temperature rise.

“He could be,” Mikey shrugged from the corner. Tyler was surprised to hear the pale boy speak as he spent the majority of his time buried into the crinkled pages of vintage novels he’d stolen from unoccupied cells.

“Nah, precious cargo must be protected. You understand, right Tyler?” Brendon’s eyes were warning, as though he was not to go against him.

“Of course. After me and Paolo got serious, he stopped sendin’ me on risky deals and pickups. I mostly had to seduce weird old guys and steal shit for him. I got to really fuck em’ up in the end though, so it was kinda fun. I did miss the on ground action, though, but Paolo was too scared I’d get hurt,” Tyler shrugged, feeling his heart constrict beneath the weight of his memories.

“I get my hands dirty!” Frank pouted, rolling his sleeves up and exposing his tattoos. “I like violence; violence I can do. I’m not good at the sales thing.”

“You miss it, huh?” Brendon whispered, more to himself than those around him. The soft, thoughtful tone of his voice seemed to stand as a trigger for his crew, who set about menial tasks within the cell. Gerard turned to the kettle, setting out an array of mugs and dropping tea bags in with a pointed expression. Mikey further buried his face, the quiet crinkling of the pages almost soothing. Frankie immediately grabbed the pouch of tobacco from Brendon’s thigh, beginning to roll his cigarettes for him.

“Sometimes,” Tyler continued, watching the cogs behind Brendon’s eyes turn. “Just miss the excitement, y’know? Where we were, they had a lot of cops. They’d follow us for miles sometimes but we’d still make the drop offs; we were pretty fuckin’ good. Me and John had a couple drop offs once, he didn’t seem so bad, I thought Paolo was gonna make  us partners.”

“Why didn’t he?”

“Turns out he wanted me all to himself,” Tyler smiled, comfort wrapping around him in a warm embrace.

“You know what’s more thrillin’ that shottin’ on the street? Shottin’ right fuckin’ here, under these pig’s noses. Some of ‘em are alright, so long as you slip ‘em a baller or two. I could teach you which addicts are always lookin’ to buy and I could make it so you’re always holdin’. You’re part of the crew now, Tyler,” Brendon declared, strutting toward him and clasping a hand around the back of his neck. He placed their foreheads together and Tyler had missed the sense of family and connection radiating from the older boy. “We make sure we look after each other here, alright? I know you must have a pretty nice family outside of this fuckin’ place but for now? We’re you’re new family. My pal Ryan, D wing, he’s leavin’ next week; got out on some good behaviour shit. So, there’ll be a spot openin’ and I’d be honoured if you took it.”

“Brendon, I-I don’t really know what to say. Thank you, I guess. I just thought I’d be done with all this shit,” he sighed.

“You should know better than anyone else that once you’re in, you’re in.” Tyler agreed, anxiously chewing his lip before shrugging his shoulders and mirroring Brendon’s neck grasp.

“Fuck it, guess I’m already in.”

The crew cheered, Gerard handing Tyler a soothing cup of tea.

“There’s a shit load of whiskey in that.”

-

A knock on Kelly’s door startled here as she nearly spilt her coffee. Josh’s bright smile peaked through the door frame as she ushered him inside.

“Hey, how’s your day been?” Josh sighed, dropping into one of the comfortable chairs. Kelly joined him, resting a weary expression against the chair arm.

“Pretty up and down. One of my kids, Ryan, he’s being released early. He got his act together, started behaving and now he’s leaving to start a new life. _Hopefully._ How about you?”

“Kelly, that’s great! See, I told you not to doubt yourself. You’re a great therapist.”

Josh always knew how to bring out the rosy tint across Kelly’s cheeks. She giggled, feeling like she’d reversed to her high school persona. Josh laid his head back, exposing his long and tanned neck to the therapist.

“Tyler’s beatin’ my ass. Every day is somethin’ new. Don’t get me wrong, I think he’s a great kid with a lot of potential; he just doesn’t know how to use it. I just can’t understand how his brain hasn’t like, _melted._ Did you talk to him about his work book?”

Kelly knew he shouldn’t be divulging into Tyler’s private sessions but there was something about Josh’s deep, explosive eyes and warming smile that loosened her leniency. 

“It was creepy,” she concurred. “But helpful. Tyler didn’t seem to sold on the idea but I think it’d be beneficial to try it once more. I want to explore this, almost alter ego that Tyler seeks for when he’s in need of guidance or comfort. If we could make it so he finds a more positive source of guidance, it could make a real difference for him. But, there was something I wanted to show you.”

“Oh yeah?”

Kelly padded to her desk, unlocking the bottom drawer and withdrawing Tyler’s workbook. Josh immediately noticed several of the pages were ripped and Kelly found the offending image. She recoiled at its intensity and the unsettling bubbling in Josh’s stomach warned him he didn’t want to see it; yet the pounding and gushing through his chest and ears spoke volumes to him.

“Two pages were stuck together. For a reason, Josh. Tyler knew this would get to us. He’s playing a game with us.”

Kelly stood to return to the chairs, stumbling slightly over a wire. She dropped the book, Josh instantly reaching down to get it, unfortunately in sync with Kelly. Their heads collided, sending Kelly toppling to the carpet. Josh stared at her with  a gaping mouth, a faint trace of laughter twitching the edges of his plump lips. Kelly felt the sparks shooting through her veins and a shake christen her fingers. She quickly leant forward, pressing her lips into Josh’s; except, nothing beneath her occurred. Josh gently pushed her back, wiping his mouth and avoiding eye contact. She couldn’t remember embarrassment so scalding.

“Oh, God, Kelly. I’m so sorry, like really sorry! I’m- I’m gay...I thought you knew. It’s literally nothing against you, I think you’re a very attractive woman it’s just- you know, I’d rather like, have a dick?”

“So he was telling the truth,” Kelly whispered, tearing her eyes away before she broke down in his prescence. She grabbed the book tightly and stood, motioning to the door.

“I have one last patient before the end of the day so, if you could please leave.”

Josh nibbled his lip and sighed.

“Kelly-“

“He’ll be here any minute.”

Josh shrugged and slipped out the door, wincing as he heard it lock behind him. Guilt seeped over his shoulders and attacked his chest but the damage had already been caused. He found himself wondering what Kelly had been about to show him. Frustrated at himself for not noticing the intertwined pages, Josh felt it necessary to release some negativity by reinforcing positivity. He fled to the medical wing to visit John.

Kelly collapsed at her desk, laying out the book in front of her. She smoothed out the pages and glared at Tyler’s drawing. There, scribbled in thick, black ink, was a graphic drawing of Tyler bent over Josh’s desk with Josh ramming into him from behind. Kelly was furious, professionalism eagerly forgotten. She curled her hands into tight, clenched fists and threw the book from the table.

She opened the second drawer of her desk and withdrew her notebook. She found Tyler’s notes and located his medication page. She drew a sharp line through Tyler’s most recently suggested medication and began to fill out a new form.

“Two can play this fucked up little game, Tyler.”


	12. Coincidence

Kelly observed the scorned medical application form in her trembling grasp. She swallowed the bitter unease sliding along her throat and folded the paper into a small square. She stood from her desk and headed toward the door, making her way to the medical wing; specifically, the dispensary booth. A large majority of the centre weren’t in need of medication, intense therapy and schooling seemed to be helpful to those but a small minority. Kelly was almost positive Tyler was one of the hardest cases she’d worked on throughout her time at the facility. He’d lied to her, injured her, almost put her job in jeopardy and now he’d stolen the one precious thing the centre had to offer; _Josh._

Tyler had been prescribed daily doses of Lexapro and Haloperidol to soothe his anxiety levels and manage the severity of his schizophrenic tendencies, though the medication had yet to prove positive effects. On her travels, Kelly brain was working incurably, imagining safe excuses to dignify a drastic change in medication. She wasn’t uninformed, she was aware of the profound dislike the guards help for him and figured they wouldn’t notice much and, most likely, would use his erratic behaviour as means to cart him away to the depths of max. Perhaps without Tyler as a constant tease, Josh would realise Kelly could offer him something more.

-

Josh sat beside John’s hospital bed, staring sadly at the injured boy. Although his wounds had mostly cleared, his face was still slightly swollen and an unsettling shade of purple. Vacant eyes stared at a blank space on the wall, awaiting Josh to speak.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.” John shrugged, bored by the sympathy that didn’t offer resolution or revenge.

“It’s not like you could’ve stopped them. No offence but it doesn’t seem like you’ve had much trainin’ in the world we live in.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re much too s _weet._ Innocent, I suppose. No one ever visited me in hospital before.”

“You in hospitals a lot?” Josh prodded, interested to unravel hidden aspects of John’s former, criminal lifestyle.

“Sometimes. Depended on sales. I was in hospital for a real long time once. I got a hit put out on me,” he whispered, eyes dropping to the duvet that swaddled him.  He picked at its fraying fringe and relished in the comfort of Josh’s steady breathing.

“What happened?” John glanced at him quickly, as though unsure he was allowed to speak of the event. Like Josh’s response somehow held weight in their conversation. He shrugged, tears his gaze away and forcing down the dry lump in his throat.

“You ever talked to Tyler about how we know each other? The shit we did before here?”

“I’ve heard a few things.”

“We worked together for a while. We were both doin’ well with sales and Paolo had taken a shine to us. He was our boss, by the way. Real tough guy but if you got on his good side, he’d treat you like you were the only thing that mattered. Everybody knew Tyler was his favourite, you know? He spent so much time in his office and few shotters  even said they saw them eating at fancy restaurants and shit. I didn’t really care about all that, I just wanted to make my money and move out of town. But Tyler cared; he loved the attention. I don’t think he got it from his rents or somethin’, he never really talked about ‘em. Then, one day-“

John bit his lip, resting his head against the raised bed frame. Josh was engrossed, taken by John’s thick accent and emotion. He nodded gently, to urge John that it was okay to continue.

“I called Paolo out on some shit bout underpaying. Said he was workin’ us for next to nothin’ and he invited me into his office. I’d never even been inside before, it was known as a privileged to us, yet we were taught to expect punishment. Paolo got off on his crew members tryin’ to stand up to him, I guess. We fucked a few times, did some blow and then when were fuckin’ again, Tyler walked in. He had this big stupid smile on his face and the second he saw us, I swear it was like somethn’ snapped.”

“What do you mean, snapped?”

“His eyes were all crazy lookin’, I couldn’t read his face. He just stared at us for a few seconds and then left. Paolo was scared he was gonna lose Tyler but I was more worried about what he was gonna do. I didn’t wanna lose having Paolo’s attention, I’d never had it before and I got what Tyler saw in it; it was pretty sweet. Couple weeks later, I’m out makin’ sales and this car pulls up to me and drags me inside before I even got a chance to look at ‘em. They drove me to a forest on the outskirts of town. They tied me to a tree and pretty much fucked me up good. I passed out after a while and I guess they thought they’d done the job. I woke up the next mornin’, managed to free myself and it took me two days to find my way back. When I got back, Paolo was dead.”

“Paolo was shot while you were in the forest?”

“Yeah,” John whimpered, screwing his eyes closed. “I _know_ Tyler put that hit on me! I went to his office the next day and Tyler had locked himself inside and was layin’ on Paolo’s couch in his expensive suit. He didn’t notice me, it just looked like he was babblin’ shit to himself or somethin’. I was freaked out about the hit and now Paolo so I just got the fuck outta there.”

“So you think Tyler had somethin’ to do with Paolo’s death?” John threw his hands in the air in defence, expression uncomfortable yet telling.

“I’m just sayin’, it all happened at once.”

As Josh began to answer, the piercing slap of heels against the harsh flooring echoed through the wing. Kelly, stiff lipped and blushing, strutted by the window, throwing Josh a dirty glance on her way. John arched an eyebrow at him and Josh patted the mattress.

“Do you mind if we continue this tomorrow? You should really be gettin’ some rest and I need to speak to-“

“Yeah, just go. I said all I wanted to say, anyway.”

Josh fled from the safety of John’s medical room, watching Kelly hand something crumpled to the young woman behind the dispensary. He recognised the young girl as one of the new interns, who were understandably terrified of Kelly and her upstanding within the facility. She scurried from the desk, disappearing into the back room. Kelly smirked and tapped the counter, turning to leave and bumping into Josh.

“Kelly, we need to talk.”

“You’ll have to schedule an appointment, I’m afraid. Busy, busy, busy!” She pushed past him and strode back toward her office. The girl returned to the desk with guilt written across her features. Josh sighed and padded to his classroom, desperate for peace and quiet.

-

Tyler sat in his otherwise vacant cell, the darkened tone of his walls adding to the shadows that crept around him. A dull ache was forming at the pit of his skull, a constant reminder of the war waiting to erupt within his brain. He needed escape; a place to find sanctuary away from the harsh thoughts. He tapped a repetitive rhythm against his thigh to keep him connected to the real world, tapping a small package in his pocket. He fingered the baggie inside, withdrawing the remains of a treat Brandon had given him. The coke was pure, the stark whiteness blaring against the juxtaposition of the cell.

“Fuck it,” he sighed, tipping a small bump onto the curl of his hand, sniffing it quickly and hiding the evidence. He did this several times, the colours inside slowly fading to brighter, calmer shades. He leant against the wall, shirt discarded along the floor. He heavily breathed, watching his exposed chest rise and fall against the stone. A tender knock brought him out of his trance like state. The door creaked open as the bolts slid free and Tyler cracked his sweat laced neck in anticipation. He quickly wiped the powdered remains from his nostrils.

“Tyler?”

Josh’s face peered around the door frame, catching Tyler in a moment of panic. The boy remained shirtless, eyes blown wide and mouth a cherry red. He was flushed, breathing heavily and Josh wasn’t sure if he’d interrupted something private.

“Wow, a visit from the teacher? What, now that Brendon’s pal is outta class, you auditionin’ for new teachers pet?”

“Very funny, Tyler. I’m actually here because I’m concerned. I think we need to talk.”

“You don’t have to say it like we’re a married couple, man. Fuck is up with you?”

“Tyler, this is important! I’m one of the few in here that’s actually tryin’ to help you!”

Tyler rose from the bed, standing tall in an attempt to threaten and intimidate Josh. The teacher was taken aback by Tyler’s tattooed and even more perturbed by how much he liked them.

“And what’s so fuckin’ important, that you gotta come and visit me in my personal cell, when I’m _supposed_ to be havin’ wind down time. Changes to a criminal’s schedule can really fuck stuff up, y’know? Now what the fuck could we have to talk about, that is _really_ fucking important.

“I want to talk about Paolo’s murder.”


	13. Full Circle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Homophobic slurs and drugs mentioned within this chapter.
> 
> As always, read with care!
> 
> Sorry it's not the best, building toward something exciting!  
> xx

“Zack Joseph?”

The boy in question glanced toward the tall, somewhat sinister looking man leaning against an expensive sports car. The younger of the Joseph brothers was slumped against a flag pole at the entrance to his high school. He was reading lazily from a Biology text book and waiting for his parents to collect him from basketball practice. He nervously closed the book and gripped the edges with white knuckles.

“Who’re you?” he snapped, straightening his back and flexing his muscles meekly. The boy was undeterred by Zack’s threatening efforts. He simply strode closer, unflustered by the uncomfortable students and parents alike that mulled around them.

“You’re Tyler’s brother, right?” he smirked, tone apparent to Zack that he already knew the answer.

“What’s it to you?”

“Ah, you got a tongue just like him. You a meth head, too? A faggot? What other disgustin’ traits did your brother leave to you?”

Zack frowned, stepping toward the man with a stern brow.

“You don’t know shit about my brother!”

“Calm down, kid. I know more shit ‘bout your brother than anyone. I’m here to do you a favour.”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. My parents are gonna be here pretty soon, you- you should leave,” Zack swallowed, clutching the book to his chest, preparing to use it as a weapon.

“Listen, I’m a friend of Paolo, rest his soul. Day before he died, he told me that Tyler had asked somethin’ of him and that I must obey the order. I don’t agree with it either, kid, but your brother fucked with my friend’s head and I follow orders given me it. Tyler wanted it.”

“Wanted what?”

“Tyler requested that when the time was right, we came and found you.”

“What the fuck could Tyler want from me? I haven’t seen him in _months_. He’s locked up in some jail.”

“We’ve got a job for you.”

-

“You keep _his_ name out of your mouth,” Tyler spat, pushing Josh’s body into the concrete behind him. His fists were bound in the material of his teacher’s shirt and the panic alight in his eyes sparked excitement in the younger boy.

“I just want to talk! Please Tyler, I don’t want to call a guard in here!” Tyler growled, shoving away from Josh and setting himself at the edge of his bed. He ran stiff hands through his sweat laced hair and kept close eyes on the shaking man before him. He niggled at the flaking skin on his lower lip and calmed himself.

“You don’t deserve to say his name. I’m tired of people talking about Paolo like they all _knew_ him. Nobody knew him, not like I did.”

Josh watched Tyler decay before him. His eyes flooded with regretful tears that huddled along the horizon of his eyelashes, threatening to spill. He returned to chewing his lip and dancing his hands through one another.

“Is it okay to talk about him? I really do want to help you, Tyler.”

“Man, why do you care so much? I never met somebody so smart that was so fuckin’ stupid! You don’t got anybody on the outside you could be wastin’ time with, instead of spendin’ it chasin’ round some good for nothin’ criminal who doesn’t give two fucks about you?”

His words were sharp, biting into Josh’s flesh like teeth. He pushed the uncomforting sensation into the depth of the cell and smiled through the bitterness.

“You remind me of someone.”

A moment of silence flashed between them and Tyler shuffled himself against the wall, leaning back and shrugging.

“Y’know, you’re smart like Paolo was. He was clued up about books and shit but he was _wise_ , too. You could tell by the way he talked. You can tell you’re smart, too. Kinda like life bit you in the ass a few times.”

“Thanks, Tyler.” Josh laughed, warmed by the backhanded compliment. “I want to ask a few questions but they might make you uncomfortable. Instead of pinnin’ me up against the wall, think we could talk it out?”

It was Tyler’s turn to chuckle, wiggling his eyebrows at the blushing elder.

“You liked it but sure.”

“You were there when Paolo was killed, right?”

“Yeah, it was awful. I saw a lot of fucked up shit on the job but that was the worst. One minute, we were happy and dancing and everythin’ was gonna be okay and the next, he’s lyin’ in my arms, gunshot wound fuckin’ _pourin’_ blood. You know, that was the first time since I left home that I thought about calling my mom.”

“Your mom?”

“It freaked me out. He was gone so quickly and I was tripping so hard on so much different shit that everything felt dark. At that exact moment, all I wanted to hear was my mom tell me that everythin’ was okay.,” he whispered, slipping his t-shirt on to cover his torso and escape the chill of the atmosphere between them; much to Josh’s disappointment.

“Did you call her?”

“Nah, I went back to his office, smoked some meth and laid there for a couple days. Luca, Paolo’s friend, he found me and helped me out. We talked a lot but I couldn’t really make out what I was sayin’, I was too fucked up. I remember he was pissed about somethin’ though. He dropped me off at the place where the shotters slept and then next thing I know, the cops picked me up and I was thrown in here.”

“Do you have any idea who might have done it?” Josh probed lightly, not wanting to push Tyler to close to the edge. He simply intended to guide the lost boy toward the answers he was seeking to allow him to begin the healing process. Tyler grimaced and shook his head, startling Josh whilst confirming his saddened thoughts. Tyler began overly aware of the pressure bubbling beneath his skull. The familiar sense of pain and anxiety pounded against the frontal area, like a persistent injury that kept replaying itself.

“Nah. I figured he pissed a lot of people off, right? I swore to him, just before he died, that I’d find the guy who did this and fuckin’ _finish_ ‘em.”

A knock and call of ‘meds!’ broke the intense conversation. The young, petrified nurse from the dispensary booth stumbled into the room, shooting Josh a confused glare as she did.

“Private tutoring,” Josh shrugged.

“Right... Mr. Joseph, it’s time for your medication.”

“I can fuckin’ walk, y’know? I usually come to the booth and collect it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I guess. I’m new here.”

Tyler rudely snatched the small paper cup from her hand, watching the two white pills bounce against one another in the confined space.

“These aren’t my pills,” Tyler barked, thrusting them back into her face.

“They’re the correct medication that match the sheet, Mr. Joseph. Please, if you refuse to take them, protocol states I must inform-“

“Yeah, yeah, the system sucks,” he yawned, dropping the pills into the back of his throat and taking a gulp of water to satisfy his dry mouth. The pills felt and tasted almost foreign as they dissolved and slid down his throat.

“Great! Same time again tomorrow. Have a good evening!”

Before the nurse had closed the door, a guard was forcing it open, glaring at Josh with the same unsatisfied scowl.

“You’re wanted by main reception. I gotta cuff you and take you there.”

Tyler turned to Josh with frantic eyes, unsure as to why he was being removed from his cell and summoned to front of house.

“What’s this about?” Josh intervened.

“None of your fuckin’ business, teach. Now get out, you shouldn’t be in here,” the guard roared. Josh glanced quickly at the throbbing muscles and perturbing veins that scattered the taller man’s body and paled beneath his shadow.

“I’ll see you in class, Tyler. Good work on your prose today!”

Tyler watched Josh slide out of the cell unscathed and folded his wrists behind his back for the guard. The cool, harsh twist of metal soon came.

“What _is_ this about?” he whispered, feeling somewhat drowsy.

“You have an urgent phone call.”


	14. Manipulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyler was frantic, animalistic and edging on terrifying.

“Hello?”

The cold, hard plastic of the prison telephone pushed against his ear. His claw like grip shook in anticipation. Ominous, melodic breathing almost brushed through the device, curling over Tyler’s unsteady expression; sending chills dancing down his spine.

“Zack’s on board.”

Tyler didn’t answer, or more so, couldn’t. The phone slid through his fingers, still perched beside his cheek, desperately grasping at mid air. He stared vacantly at the machine before him, watching as the screen counted down to the demise of the call. Prisoners were entitled to a five minute phone call, the majority of which had been taken up by Tyler’s unwillingness to answer. When the timer beeped, the guard knocked loudly on the door, bringing Tyler out of his daze.

“Times up!”

He furiously licked his lips, toes nearly crushing against the door, eagerly awaiting the sweet sound of the bolt sliding open. Tyler pushed his way through, storming toward Brendon’s cell with a twitch cursing his right eye. He stumbled inside to find Brendon, surprisingly, alone.

“Yo, Tyler, what’s up? You look fucked, man.”

“They’ve gone too fuckin’ far,” he growled, gripping handfuls of his hair. He plunged a tight fist against the concrete wall, rejoicing as the skin tore apart and cried crimson over pale skin. Brendon watched as Tyler internally battled. He knew there was _something_ a little peculiar about the boy with two faces. Brendon had convinced himself he’d dealt with both personalities in question, but couldn’t yet distinguish if the constant drug abuse had melted his brain into a bright puddle of idiosyncratic imagination. Tyler was frantic, animalistic and edging on terrifying. Brendon hadn’t seen such a fire burning in any member of his crew, even of Frankie’s down days.

He a _dmired_ it.

“Hey, calm down, okay? We’re gonna get whoever’s fuckin’ with you but you gotta calm down and explain shit to me first, okay?”

Tyler threw himself beside Brendon on the squeaky mattress. He shook his head in disarray and turned to face Brendon with haunted eyes that doubled as windows. He felt as though Tyler’s brain lay just behind his iris’ on view for the world to see. He could practically read Tyler’s thoughts as they bounced from one decaying wall to the next.

“It’s one of Paolo’s friends. They had the fuckin’ _nerve_ to call the fuckin’ prison and request to speak to me. Man, if Paolo was still alive he’d have had those guys shot for bein’ so goddamn stupid!”

“What’d they have to say?”

“They’re usin’ my little brother.”

-

Josh dropped his belongings at the door before the lock behind him clicked. He stared across his shared apartment, clean and proper, with a heavy hearted sigh. Padding to the kitchen, Josh discarded of his tie en route. The kitchen light was bright in its manner, sharp and clinical as Josh stumbled upon the dinner Debby had made hours before. It was wrapped tightly in a bed of tin foil for warmth and on the small, orange post it note read “please eat, love Debs x.”

“Love you, Debby,” he whispered into the silence.

“Love you too.”

“Shit!”

Josh nearly dropped the plate in fright; foil long since lost its heat. Debby was wrapped in a fluffy dressing gown and Josh felt guilt pool at the pit of his empty stomach. He could barely keep her hawk like gaze.

“You’re gonna eat that, right? Or are you just goin’ to set it on the window sill while you smoke and let Mrs. Ferry’s cats eat it again? I’m not blind, Josh.” The sadness that laced her voice added yet another layer of discomfort for Josh. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Debby’s efforts; he just couldn’t process his emotions.

“Are we really goin’ to do this again? I’m just gonna stand here, begging you to talk to me? We’re supposed to be best friends, Josh. We share a fuckin’ apartment and you can’t even look me in the damn eye!”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

“Have you done something stupid at work? Jesus, don’t tell me you fucked that crazy kid!”

Josh’s gaze roared upward, beaming through Debby as though lasers fuelled by anger.

“Watch your mouth, Debby. No, no sex. And he’s not crazy, he’s just had a tough life-“

“ _Tough life?_ Have you heard _anything_ about your precious new project? He had _everything!_ Basketball scholarship, a bunch of friends and a pretty secure home life but he threw it away to start selling drugs at raves and he got himself in too deep!”

“Well, maybe he realised that what he _had_ isn’t what he _wanted.”_

The venom that seeped over Josh’s words surprised the both of them. It’d been a slip of the tongue, a moment of madness; and yet, he felt as though a weight had been lifted. Debby placed a frail hand to her chest and nodded solemnly through obvious upset.

“Well, I’m glad that’s all cleared up.”

She shuffled away into the depth of the apartment and Josh finally heard her bedroom door slam to a close and lock. He ran a hand through his hair and eyed the plate. He fingered a crumpled packet of cigarettes from the bottom of his pocket and stalked to the window; plate and smoke in head. Midnight and Teddy, Mrs. Ferry’s cats, were impatiently awaiting Josh’s daily treat. He watched as they tore apart the food, smoke curling into the night air and obscuring his sense of reality, if only for a moment.

-

Brendon’s hands ran down Tyler’s toned back, pushing into the tense muscles that spoke volumes of his anger. His knuckles were unrecognisable, crusted blood and open wounds hissing beneath the bitter cell air. Brendon cheered him on as if he were a performer, expected only to impress his most valued customer.

“Come on, Tyler. We’ll find a way to fuck ‘em up good! I got visitation in four days, right? My cousin, Ninja, he’s fuckin’ _nuts._ He knows everybody on _and_ off the streets. We’ll find those little pussies and have them taken out!”

Brendon watched Tyler thrive from his words, chest rising and falling with speed and excitement. He reached out for Tyler’s arm, extending it to the front and manipulating his fingers into a weapon. He leant closer to Tyler’s ear and growled deep.

“One. By. One.”


	15. Suicide Block

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you enjoy reading it!
> 
> Once again, thank you all for your kind words.
> 
> xx

“Brendon! Brendon!”

The frenzied cry broke Brendon and Tyler apart as Frank hurled himself into the cell. His face was alive with fret; a look Brendon had seen once before. Frank gripped the edges of Brendon’s jumper, pulling as tight as he could manage to ground himself; to calm his raging mind.

“They have him! They’ve _taken_ him!” he cried, collapsing to his knees despite his best efforts. Brendon immediately cradled him, Tyler on looking with a sense of discomfort.

“Where’ve they taken him?”

“Suicide block! Brendon _please,_ he won’t make it out of there again!”

Tyler felt a pang of sadness for the weeping boy on the ground, for he had experienced the harsh horrors of the suicide block first hand. It was a though admittance into the ward was validation of the removal of individuality. Upon Tyler’s arrival at the prison, he was ordered to fill our numerous forms, one specifically detailing his mental health issues. Naive in his ways, Tyler had honestly accounted the majority of his own problems, admitting to thoughts of suicide and self harm; both previous to his conviction and current. They’d sectioned him immediately, pushing him into a miniscule, white room where he was strip searched by two burly guards. Afterwards, they refused to return Tyler’s clothing and handed him an itchy, royal blue smock. He was informed of their rules and expectations. He wasn’t allowed clothes to prevent possible suicide attempts and to minimise workload, was ordered to share a large room with a sea of bunkers and mentally ill patients.

“Who’s in suicide block?” he questioned, subconsciously rubbing the skin of his neck.

“Gerard! He- he admitted to- to Kelly that he was cutting again and- and they’ve _taken_ him!”

“Man, I fuckin’ hate that bitch,” Brendon spat, pulling Frank from the floor and setting him against the bed. He leant against the opposite wall, watching the small boy tremble and sob. He chewed against his nails, conjuring a plan in his mind. Frank was growing more hysterical by the moment, his chest rising and falling inconsistently.

“Hey, Frank,” Tyler smiled, sitting beside him and pulling him in gently. “You gotta calm down, man. I know this is some bullshit but if the guards see you freakin’ out like this, they’ll refer you to Kelly yourself. Then you won’t be able to help Gerard, yeah?”

“We can’t do anythin’ until tomorrow,” Brendon grunted, ripping apart his drawer in search of hidden goods. “They’ll be lockin’ cells soon, we can’t do shit till the mornin’. Tyler’s right, Frank, you gotta calm down. Gerard’s strong, you know that. He’s a lot stronger than we give him credit for. Here, take one of these,” he soothed, dropping a small, pale blue pill into Frank’s awaiting palm.

“What’s that?” Tyler inquired, watching as Frank swallowed it dry without hesitation.

“Valium. Got ‘em from some guy on E wing; he was practically scratchin’ his fuckin’ eyeballs out for a hit. I’m a prick but I’m not about to see some dude gauge on eye out, y’know? They’re nice though, Frankie. I promise. They don’t take too long so you go to your cell, alright? You’ll sleep well. Tomorrow mornin’, after therapy, come to me and we’ll fix this shit, alright?”

Frank nodded with a tight smile. He hugged both boys and slumped back to the confinements of his cell. Brendon was quiet, as though considering the troubles the morning would bring. Tyler stood to give him space but a hand caught the back of his jumper.

“You come see me, too. I’ll call Ninja tomorrow, right? All the shit is gonna get sorted. _Nobody_ fucks with us and thinks it alright.”

Tyler left with a feeling of unease. The pressure beneath his skull was building like a blade had been dug and twisted. Brendon’s earnestly granted response to their woes had done little to soothe him but only riled up the parts of himself he doubted the most. He couldn’t deny he felt somewhat safer and more powerful with Brendon’s crew, but the manner in which he spoke was dangerous; Tyler knew his tone all too well.

He slipped into his bed just as the cell doors were locked. He had therapy to attend in the morning and class afterward. Yet somehow, he knew the meeting in Brendon’s cell would outweigh the importance of both.

-

“Inmate 3565, get up! Medication then therapy, let’s go!”

He awoke to the same nurse, who Tyler suspected had a constant look of fear, with an armed guard stood behind her. Tyler recognised him as the guard who’d used his taser in Josh’s class on his first day. The nurse handed him his medication with a nervous hand and Tyler noted it was the same pills he’d been given the day before, different to those he had adjusted to.

“Get dressed. I’ve been ordered to take you to therapy,” the guard grunted.  Tyler kept a close eye on him and his weapon as he quickly changed. He was shoved out his cell forcefully before being shackled and dragged.

“What the fuck, man?” Tyler howled, attempting to pull out of his grasp. He saw Brendon stood at his cell door, watching the guard with a venomous scowl. He caught Tyler’s eye and shrugged, running a finger across his throat and pointing to the guard. Tyler smirked and stifled a laugh.

“Somethin’ funny, inmate?” the guard roared, shoving Tyler against the wall and spreading him limbs as far as the cuffs would allow. The wing fell into silence, every pair of eyes closely watching them. The guard leant into Tyler’s back, whispering with a dark voice into his ear.

“You think you’re tough shit? This prison won’t miss another socially inept piece of crap like you so watch that pretty fuckin’ mouth of yours. I’m an officer of the law, my word over yours. There’s a whole fuckin’ list of reasons I get to pick from when I use force, get it? So shut the fuck up and we won’t have a problem.”

Tyler ignored his words, letting himself be pushed toward Kelly’s office. Upon his arrival, his ankles were unchained but his wrists were left bound as he was guided to his chair opposite her desk.

“Thanks,” she drawled without looking up from her paperwork. The guard slammed the door and Kelly glanced at Tyler with a look of disgust. He was taken aback by her rudeness as he’d never been exposed to her unkind side.

“John is being released from medical today,” she began. “He’ll be returning back to the block.”

“That why you got me cuffed up like some fuckin’ animal?” Tyler scoffed, raising his bound hands.

“We can’t afford to take any risks in this case. John will have close eyes watching him so if you and your _crew_ try anything, the guards will know about it.”

“I already told you, I didn’t have shit to do with any of that! I’m tryin’ to do my fuckin’ time like everybody else!”

Kelly dropped her pen and rubbed at her temples with a sigh. She flipped open the book beneath her.

“Tyler, since your arrival, your track record of behaviour is, for lack of a better word, appalling. You brutally attacked a fellow classmate, you injured myself and stole important prison property, you incited a prison riot, you attempted suicide whilst in max, you were involved in the targeted attack of an inmate and now you’re infiltrating a well known gang within this facility, Tyler. And I found your little drawing, Tyler. Sex with an employee? Now that _really_ breaks the rules.”

Tyler stared at her with a crazy expression. His boiling blood pumping furiously through his veins; he couldn’t have been tensed beneath the restraints any harder. He smirked despite his anger.

“Man, jealously really does bring out the worst in people.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, Tyler. Why would I be jealous of you? You’re just a criminal-“

“And who the fuck are you? Some petty little schoolgirl? You’re the adult here, Kelly but I think it’s evident who’s the little _bitch.”_

“That’s fine, Tyler. You can call me all the names you want. Violent behaviour, irrational thoughts; these really don’t help your case. Looks like that mental illness of yours isn’t going anywhere, no? Maybe you should join your little friend up on suicide block. I know how much you loved it up there.”

Tyler dropped his devilish smirk, watching Kelly with terrified eyes. The crashing waves in his head instantly settled, abandoning Tyler to manage alone.

“You can’t threaten me!”

“Says who? It’s just me and you in here, Tyler and who’s going to believe somebody like you with a track record like this? If you don’t start playing by the rules, I can make your time here _very_ uncomfortable. You’re dismissed. Guard!”

The guard burst back into the room, grabbing Tyler and pulling him toward his classroom. When he arrived, the majority of students were in their seats, including Brendon, Frank and Mikey. Those that’d been locked in segregation had been released and returned to class and were garnishing Tyler with looks of rage and vengeance.

“We’ve been through this before,” Josh groaned, gesturing to Tyler’s handcuffs. “Remove them, please.”

“Special orders from Kelly. Inmate 3565 must remain retained for the safety of the students. Here,” he grinned, handing Josh a piece of paper with the order form from Kelly.

“This has to be a joke!” Josh spat, stunned by her actions. “How can he be expected to participate if he’s got cuffs on?”

“Those are the rules, teach. When inmate 3565 learns that rules are there to be followed, they come off. Got that?”

Before awaiting Josh’s answer, the guard fled the room, patting Tyler on the back patronisingly before doing so. The students were adamant to make Tyler feel uncomfortable as he shrank beneath their gazes. Josh threw him a sorrowful look and demanded their attention.

The class dragged and Tyler felt himself losing focus as the metal bit into the flesh on his wrists. All of the times he’d caused pain to himself didn’t compare to the embarrassment or ache he was feeling. When class finished, a different guard arrived to escort Tyler to yard time. Brendon, Frank and Mikey followed just steps behind him. As they reached the yard, the younger female officer sighed.

“I was supposed to keep your cuffs on but I know you’ve been in them for a while.”

She quickly released him and he cradled his injured wrists at his chest.

“Just please, don’t cause any trouble.”

“Thanks,” Tyler whispered, heart swelling at her kindness.

“Bout fuckin’ time,” Brendon barked. “You didn’t come to my cell after therapy!”

“That asshole guard wouldn’t let me. I was taken straight to class. This place is _fucked!_ ”

“Brendon’s gonna help Gerard get outta suicide block!” Frank smiled, lighting a cigarette for himself and offering one to Tyler. He quickly lit his own and revelled in the nicotine rush that flooded his entire body.

“This whole fuckin’ place is on a power trip. That fuckin’ guard needs a reality check.”

“Yeah, I saw him roughin’ you up this mornin’, Brendon nodded, digging in his pockets for the tiny baggy. He led the group to a hidden corner and gave them all a bump. Mikey refused, claiming he wasn’t in the mood due to Gerard’s confinement.

“Yo, I spoke to Ninja this mornin’. He’s comin’ for visitation. I briefly explained he had a job to do and he’s down. You gotta fill me in on any information you got then he’ll sort shit out with your brother, alright?”

“Thanks, man. I really appreciate it. Y’know, I never saw eye to eye with my family but I can’t have my little brother wrapped in the same shit I was. He’s a good kid with a bright future; I can’t be the reason that gets fucked up.”

“Like I said, we got your back but we also explained that means you got ours, right? I do this for you, you gotta do somethin’ for me,” Brendon shrugged, turning his eyes away and lighting another cigarette. He sniffed and wiped the remains from his nostril and fixated on Tyler again.

“I know how this works. I’m listening.”

“That teacher guy, Josh, you’re on good terms with him, yeah?”

“I wouldn’t say _good terms,_ but I guess I got a ledge with him. Why?”

“There’s no tellin’ how long they’re gonna keep Gerard locked away up there. He’s had a rough past but you know as good as I do that place ain’t gonna help. We need you to get alone time with Josh, get into his head; toy with his emotions if you got to.”

“Why? He’s just a teacher; he can’t get into suicide block, anyway.”

“I know that, but Kelly _can.”_

Frank watched Tyler with excited eyes, urging him to agree. Mikey was focused quietly on the pages of his novel but Tyler could tell he was paying more attention to their hushed conversation.

“You’ve lost me,” Tyler shrugged.

“Man, are you blind? That bitch is in heat and she’s practically beggin’ for Josh to want her, right? Josh is invested in you, that’s easy to see. From day one he was all over you, workin’ his ‘special case’ bullshit but now you gotta use that shit to your advantage. Like I said, get into his head and work him a little. I know you did this type of stuff on the outside when you were lookin’ for stash, okay? So, stick to what you know.”

“You want me to manipulate Josh into liking Kelly?” Tyler laughed, eyebrow cocked up in surprise.

“It’ll work,” Brendon smirked. “Trust me. You get him to show a little interest in her and she’ll practically bend over backwards for him. Gerard will get released in no time.”

“I’m not entirely sure this is gonna work,” Tyler mused. Brendon roughly pushed him up against the wall as Frank and Mikey adverted their watch.

“You listen to me. Ninja is gonna make sure your little brother doesn’t get his ass handed to him by your fuck buddy’s pals, okay? You fuckin’ _owe_ me. I got your back, you got mine. You don’t wanna play by those rules? Fine, you’re on your own. And you gotta cough up the money for the gear you sniffed last night.”

“Alright, shit! Get off me, man. I’ll do it.”

Yard time came to an end and the boys filed back into their blocks. When Tyler was shuffling back to his cell, he bumped into John. His injuries were almost undetectable but the anxiety left over was evident.

“Ty-Tyler,” Josh gasped, taking a tensile step back.

“John, I- listen.”

_“Take responsibility. Your position is slipping. You must regain respect.”_

“You understand,” Tyler shrugged. “You fucked me over on the outside. These are my grounds, got that? Your time here doesn’t have to be like this, if you stay the fuck outta my way.”

“Yeah, sure. I swear! You won’t get any trouble from me, alright?” The quake in his voice did little to deter Tyler’s ego from ballooning.

“Glad you’re still competent. Don’t look so sad, some of the older boys find that attractive.”

Tyler strutted away, feeling assurance seep from his pores and engulf his body once again. He entered his cell and glanced in the small mirror glued to the wall.

“I’ll fix this,” Tyler muttered. “But first, I have to make sure my brother is safe. I can’t be the reason he dies.”

_“Then, we must do something about Brendon.”_


	16. Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drug use in this chapter!
> 
> Read with caution :)  
> xx

“Our Father, who art in Heaven.”

Frank enclosed his hands together in prayer, knelt solemnly against the concrete of his cell. His eyes were closed tightly, body bent into a submissive bow beneath the small collection of his religious belongings. A set of rosary beads with a shining, golden cross hanging from the bottom was slung over the cracked edges of the mirror. Beneath lay a fractured statue of Jesus, arms wide as though listening to Frank pray quietly. A bible, though battered and creased, stood proud against the splintered wall encasing him.

Making the sign of the cross, Frank rose to his feet and examined himself in the mirror. He stared at his exposed torso in the reflection, fingers dancing over the artwork that littered his skin. He loved the majority of his ink, never losing the strength of their meanings but he knew some of them were regrets. His traced the outline of the scorpion that sat across his neck, laughing at the bitter memory of his drunken nights at his ex boyfriend’s house. They’d gotten him drunk at fifteen, so he couldn’t see two feet in front of him and bullied him into submitting to their wants and needs. His friend’s had rough hands, callused with the memories of long night shifts and necks that pulsed in their grips.

“Frankie?”

He glanced at the door to see Brendon’s worried frown, peering in on him as though he were an animal in the zoo. He observed a timid Frank, one he didn’t often see.

“Hi,” the smaller boy muttered, stepping back to invite Brendon into the cell.

“You look sad.” They sat together on the bed, Brendon instantly caressing a spot on Frank’s thigh. He watched as the elder boy’s hand climbed higher, daring to dance closer to where Frank didn’t ever want to be touched again.

“I’m worried.”

“About Gerard?”

“Mhm.”

The hand slipped away, back to Brendon’s own legs.

“I told you he’d be alright, didn’t I? Thought you trusted me, Frankie?” His tone served as a warning. Frank nibbled the dry skin that flaked from his lip, eyes searching the cracks on the ground in hopes of finding answers.

“He doesn’t like it up there. He doesn’t like sleepin’ alone,” he mumbled, trying to block out the weight of Brendon’s arm as it snaked across his naked shoulders.

“You worry too much, Frankie. Gerard’s a big boy, he can handle himself. You’re only little, it’s alright. You’ll learn. I’ve brought you somethin’,” Brendon mused, nudging Frank’s cheek with his nose.

“What?”

He dug into the depth of his pocket, extending his closed fist toward the younger boy. Frank eyed it wearily. Brendon unwound the tightness of the grip, exposing the brown powder in a small baggy. Frank’s breath escaped him, chest crumbling inward as he struggled to tear his gaze away. It seemed so innocent lying in the palm of Brendon’s hand. He subconsciously fingered the crease of his elbow where a patch of track marks peppered the damaged skin.

“I can’t-“

“Shh, it’s okay! I know the coke hasn’t been doin’ it for you and I promised I’d look after you, didn’t I? You need this and I went through a lot of trouble for it,” Brendon whispered with a biting tone. He watched Frank argue with himself, eyes darting between the baggy and the scars.

“Gerard made me promise.”

“Gerard isn’t here, Frankie. He left you, right?”

“N-no, he- he had to go there. He was gonna hurt himself!” the boy whimpered, eyes clouding with sadness and abandonment; feelings he knew all too well.

“Gerard knew he’d be taken away if he told Kelly. Maybe... maybe he _wanted_ to go away.” Brendon inched his palm closer, the other trailing its way back to Frank’s quivering thigh.

“Did- did he say that?”

“That’s not my place to say, Frankie. But think about it, why would he squeal if he knew they’d take him? I can take this back, sell it on...”

“No!” Frank barked, snatching the baggy from Brendon’s palm. A light blush of embarrassment coloured his cheeks and Brendon smirked at the mess beside him. He used his free palm to turn Frank’s face toward him, brushing away the stray tears that trickled down his cheekbones. Frank’s hands trembled with anxiety.

“You can’t inject like this, baby, you’ll hurt yourself. I can do it for you?” he pushed, smiling as Frank nodded. He pushed himself back against the wall and used his pillow for minimal comfort. The cold exterior of the wall bled through the thin material and nipped at his back. Brendon grabbed the rosary beads from the mirror and tossed them onto the bed.

“You still got that needle?”

“Top of the light,” Frank sighed, pointing to the dull light that extended across the roof. Brendon clambered onto chair and scattered about the light until he withdrew the slightly dirty needle that had been hidden for months. Frank did his best to swallow the thoughts of Gerard’s disappointment. He watched silently as Brendon found Frank’s spoon, filling it with a drop of water from the tap. He tipped a small bump of the powder into the liquid, mixing it around with the plastic end of the needle.

“Rip a little bit of that pillow for me,” Brendon grunted as he struck several matches and watched the water and heroin boil into one another. Frank handed him a pinch of fluff from the inside of his pillow and cowered nervously as it fell onto the hot spoon, soaking up the lethal mixture. Brendon plunged the needle into the fluff, extracting a fair amount and setting the spoon against the desk. With the needle placed in his mouth, he smiled down at the wide eyed both beneath him. Frank thought he looked terrifying.

“Ready?”

Frank nodded, ignoring the discomfort of the rosary beads tightening at the top of his arm. Several minutes passed before Brendon could find a suitable vein as he slapped the skin repeatedly.

“There we go,” he whispered, piercing the vein without warning and pushing the needle down. Frank gasped, unravelling the rosary beads with sloppy hands; staring up at Brendon with an open mouth.

“That was a big one,” he slurred, head falling back against the pillow. The world around him shook and trembled, warmth gushing through his blood, rising up and clawing at his skin and teeth. He could vaguely register a warm mouth teasing the edges of his sharp jaw and a tug at the waistband of his pants.

“Good boy,” Brendon growled before he slipped into welcome dissolution.

\--

Tyler titled his face toward the sun, enjoying the gentle breeze and the warm rays that shone down across the yard. A large group of boys were playing a rowdy game of basketball; others were simply chatting amongst smaller groups. He spotted Brendon, Frank and Mikey in their usual spot and sauntered over. He lit a cigarette and joined into the circle with ease.

“Easy,” Brendon nodded, a certain look of satisfaction on his face. Mikey, however, had never appeared so disgruntled. His book was closed at his side, a scowl etched across his features.

“Y’alright, Mikey?” Tyler prodded. The boy simply snorted, glaring away from Brendon’s watchful eye. Tyler diverted his gaze to Frank and had to bite down on his tongue to stop the surprised gasp from slipping out. He was practically transparent, shuddering yet sweating in the afternoon sun. His eyes were half lidded, unsettled, with a piercing splash of vacancy. His hands were constant, tapping against his knee caps or twirling a strand of grease slicked hair.

“Um, hey, Frank. You holdin’ up alright?”

“He’s fine,” Brendon smiled. “Yo, you sell that gear yet or what?”

It didn’t go unnoticed that Brendon had swiftly changed topics. Tyler had seen Frank’s state before; in his previous life, it had been a regular occurrence. He was accustomed to spending time with recovering addicts on the brink of relapse and Tyler hadn’t suspected the worst of it. He watched Brendon with careful eyes; how he guarded Frank how Paolo had guarded him.

“Yeah, got the money in my cell. I’ll come drop it off later.”

“Cool. Ninja’s comin’ tomorrow, yeah? He ain’t stayin’ long, he’s got kids and shit. Enough time to get the info and do the job.”

“That’s great,” Tyler yawned, staring out across the yard. He’d spent the night thinking of Zack, worrying about what they were forcing him to do.

“You not expectin’ anybody?” Miked inquired, tight lipped and quiet.

“Don’t think my mom can really hack this place,” Tyler shrugged, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the floor. “Or me. What ‘bout you?”

“Our mom is comin’,” Mikey sighed, removing his glasses and digging his palms into his face. “They’re not gonna let her see Gerard which is really gonna fuck her up. He was doin’ so well, man.”

Brendon stood, ravelling Mikey into an awkward, uncomfortable embrace. Tyler noted Mikey didn’t respond, simply stayed in his weeping position. Frank stared at the ground ahead of him, lost in the moment. Tyler took the opportunity to perch himself beside him.

“How about you, Frank? You got anyone nice visitin’ tomorrow?”

“He’s been writin’ his mom letters, right Frankie?” Brendon interjected, as if challenging Tyler. “It’s a mystery if that bitch turns up or not.”

Frank huffed, pushing himself away from the bench and storming inside, leaving the three boys in his dust. Mikey glared at Brendon, chasing after the smaller boy.

“Man, you try to be the good guy and it bites you in the ass, right?” Brendon laughed, offering Tyler a cigarette.

“I dunno, man. God knows I don’t see eye to eye with my parents but I’ll be damned if someone else is gonna talk shit about ‘em,” Tyler shrugged, accepting the smoke graciously. Brendon was quiet for a moment, savouring the silence between the pair.

“I bet your parents never left you alone in the house for weeks when you were a kid, right? Let you fill up your diaper and sit in your own shit so they could go out and score? Frankie saw his mom overdose twice before his sixth birthday so don’t come talk to me about what I should or shouldn’t call her, alright? You came in here with your fuckin’ tail between your legs, wouldn’t speak a word to nobody.”

Tyler swallowed the weight in his throat, letting the wind smoke his cigarette for him. Brendon refused to make eye contact, instead, watching the boys play basketball.

“You had a reputation. People in here knew who you were before you even got here. Then you show up and you’re some fuckin’ weird kid who doesn’t talk. We watched you from day one, Tyler. We knew you weren’t no pussy but we couldn’t figure out why the fuck you didn’t try and get on anybody’s good side. Then you freaked the fuck out in class and beat that kid half to death and we thought _fuck,”_ Brendon snapped, face whipping sideways to capture Tyler’s sight. “There he is. Kids like me, Frankie, hell even Mikey and Gerard; we’re born into this. From birth, my brothers practically raised me and taught me how to survive in here. We were seein’ shit like this when you were winnin’ your basketball games, watchin’ cartoons on TV with your fuckin’ perfect family.”

“You don’t know my fuckin’ family,” Tyler growled.

“I’m not denyin’ you’ve seen some stuff, Tyler. You can see it in your eyes. The way they light up at the first _sniff_ of trouble; you like it, it _excites_ you. So yeah, we’re kinda the same. Except, you’re here because you were bored bein’ the trophy boy. You thought you’d rebel against your parents ‘cause they loved you too much, cared about your future too much but when things got too heavy and you fell for the guy that was fundin’ your little crack addiction, they left you. You couldn’t handle it and you fucked things up and you ended up in here. You weren’t cut out of this shit; we were. So, don’t think for one God damn second that you can sit there and judge me or anyone in this crew ‘cause you’re just as much of a piece of shit, you were just stupid enough to do it to yourself.”

Brendon swiftly jumped off the bench and headed over to the basketball game, clapping himself in and falling into the game easily. Tyler exhaled the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, glancing down to the cigarette that had disintegrated without him.

_“Let me come out and play.”_

“No,” Tyler swallowed, attempting to steady the quake in his hands.

_“Brendon just served you your ass on a plate. It is vital your reputation remains a threat. He has the power to destroy that.”_

“He- he’s helping save Zack. I can’t go against him now!”

_“You must find a way to break him. Turn what he loves most against him.”_

“You mean...”

_“You have to turn Frank against him.”_

“I- that could get me in some serious trouble...”

_“You are weak! I can fix this. Let me come out and play...”_

\--

Frank cradled the needle in his hands, the last of Brendon’s gift inside. He gently rocked himself back and forth, staring at the tip with unsure motives. The rosary beads glinted from across the cell and Frank could hardly stand it.

“Fuck,” he grunted, padding over and grabbing them from the mirror. As he turned to sit, a voice broke the silence.

“Hey Frank.”

“Oh! Tyler!” he fussed, covering the needle with his pillow and clutching the beads with all of his strength.

“You don’t have to hide that from me,” Tyler smiled, sitting down on the cold plastic chair, giving the boy his personal space. “Though I wish you wouldn’t do it. Coke not enough?”

“Crack not enough?” the smaller boy spat, instantly recoiling with an apologetic gasp. “Tyler, I’m sorry! That- that was out of line.”

“It’s alright, Frank. Fair play,” he laughed, throwing a fleeting look around the cell, upturning his nose at the religious feel. “You weren’t usin’ when I first met you, right?”

“No,” he whispered, ashamed of how easily he’d rolled back into the clutch of the drug. “I- I’d been clean for a while, actually. Gerard was helping me a lot.”

“Must be hard with him gone?” Frank nodded, running his fingertips over the golden cross.

“He’d be disappointed. _I’m_ disappointed.”

“Then why’d you do it?” Tyler pressed lightly, working his way through Frank’s barriers. They were as tall as they were thick but Tyler was charismatic when it mattered most.

“It- it was given to me. I panicked ‘cause what- what if Gerard went away on purpose?” the shaking boy wheezed. “Brendon said he knew they’d take him!” As if a switch had been flicked, Frank’s eyes flew open and he shot Tyler a heart breaking plea.

“Oh God. You- you can’t tell him I said that. Shit, Tyler, please! I’ll do _anything!”_ he cried, falling to his knees in front of Tyler and tugging at the waistband of his pants.

“Woah, hey! It’s alright, stop! You don’t need to do that, Frank. _Ever._ That- you put that shit behind you, alright? I’m not gonna breathe a word to Brendon. Why should he know what we talk about?”

Tyler saw the glint in Frank’s eye brighten; could sense the difference in the way he was looking at the elder boy. He stared up at Tyler for a moment, hand still intertwined in the hem of his pants. Tyler was examining him carefully, planning where he should guide the conversation to heighten his advantage. A short laugh from behind them prickled the hairs on his neck.

“This looks real fuckin’ cosy.”


	17. Moments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read with care
> 
> comment pls x

Tyler felt the tiny hairs of his neck stand to attention. The hot breath of the intruder brushed over the skin, searing it with its piercing words. He was frozen, eyes glued to Frank’s petrified expression. He spun in his seat; Frank still perched between his legs.

“You’d know,” Tyler spat upon spotting the smirking face of the rouge guard. He watched them with hatred in his eyes and stormed inside, grabbing Tyler by the neck of his jumper and dragging him to a stand. Frank gasped, scrambling back toward his bed and sitting himself on top of the pillow that hid his secret.

“Keep that mouth shut, boy!” the guard barked, pulling him out of the cell and along the corridor; Frank’s fearful look disappearing into the distance.

“Get off! What I do?”

“Meds,” he laughed, nearing Tyler’s cell. He, once again, caught Brendon watching at the frame of his cell. He stared at the guard with a glint Tyler hadn’t seen before. Inside his cell, he was thrown roughly onto the bed.

“You gotta be so rough?” Tyler snorted. “I only like it like that when I’m feelin’ kinky.”

“I’ll fuckin’ do it,” the guard sneered, hand hovering over the taser tucked away in its harness.

“Not like you haven’t before.”

The guard made way to grab the taser before a huff from behind stopped him.

“That’s quite enough,” Kelly sighed. “Go on, by the door. I’ll only need you if he doesn’t cooperate.”

“Cooperate with what?” Tyler gulped, watching Kelly set a small medical bag on top of his desk. She unzipped it carefully, withdrawing a small pill bottle holding Tyler’s medication.

“Palm.”

Tyler held out his palm, watching as the small pill tumbled out of its container. It was mockingly small and yet his stomach churned at the mere thought of swallowing it.

“Take it,” the guard growled. Tyler, unwillingly, threw his head back and swallowed the pill dry. He watched as Kelly pulled out a syringe from the innards of the medical bag and recoiled against the wall.

“What’s that?”

“I heard you haven’t been getting much sleep?” Kelly kneeled in front of Tyler, warming him with her patronising tone. He crawled toward his pillow, breathing picking up as she watched with him a smile.

“I’m sleepin’ fine! I’m fine. I don’t need that,” Tyler ordered, shrugging past her and into the middle of the cell. “What is it?”

“It’ll help you sleep, Tyler. I know you’re struggling. Listen, I was out of order in my office; I shouldn’t have ever treated you like that. Off days are never the fault of a patient.”

“Right. Now fuck off, I don’t need th-“

The taser was plunged into Tyler’s back as his words died in the atmosphere. Kelly watched as his body convulsed, collapsing to the floor as though a broken piece of wood.

“Enough.”

The guard pulled back with a roll of his eyes, nudging Tyler’s unconscious body with his boot. He cackled at the lack of response and dragged him up with ease. Tyler’s neck slumped back, mouth hanging open and eyes rolling.

“I usually feel sorry for them when I see them like this,” Kelly sighed. “But there’s something about Tyler that blocks that empathy. Shame.”

She pierced Tyler’s arm with the needle, watching as the liquid inside sank into his blood stream. He was thrown onto the bed with a groan, shrugging himself into a hunched over position as he watched Kelly pack up the medical bag through blurred eyes.

“Wh’d y’give m?” Tyler slurred, pulling at his jumper to escape the heat that engulfed his body. Kelly threw him a tight smile as she left beside the guard.

“Sleep well, Tyler.”

\--

Tyler was exactly fourteen minutes and thirty four seconds late to class. Josh watched the hands spin round his wrist, free hand being nibbled by his chattering teeth. He glared across his class as they scribbled in their notebooks. Upon discovering Tyler’s lack of intention to attend class, he’d set them an easy writing task to challenge their writing abilities. He was aware of Tyler’s apparent friendship with Brendon, Frank and Mikey. Mikey was furiously writing in his book, hand flying across the page and burning paper trails. Brendon lazily chewed the tip of his pen, eyes more focused on the decaying, fragmented excuse of a boy before him. Frank was well worn, eyes distant and red rimmed. He had a slight tremble in his hands as he mulled over the right words to express himself. Every now and then, he’d figure out what he wanted to say, write it down then cross it out. Josh stood quickly and strode to Brendon’s desk. He bent down and whispered in the younger boy’s ear.

“Any idea why Tyler isn’t here?”

“Nah,” Brendon shrugged. “He was meant to come to my cell before class. When I went to his cell, he was still passed out.”

Josh bit his lip and nodded his head. He tapped Brendon’s book to tell him to work and set himself back at his desk. He couldn’t wait for the end of class.

After what felt like an eternity, Josh watched the room empty. Brendon held Frank’s shaking hands in his own as they guided him to yard time. Waiting no more than a beat, Josh fled to Tyler’s cell. He peaked his head on and swallowed the shocked gasp and burst within his throat.

Tyler was slumped over the edge of his bed, clothes sodden with sweat. His hair was several shades darker considering, paved to his face in dripping ribbons. His entire body was riddled with shakes as he tried to push himself into a stand. Josh didn’t think he’d even noticed his presence.

“Tyler! Are you alright?”

He ran to his side as Tyler tumbled from his wet sheets onto the ground. He whimpered at the coolness against his burning flesh.

“Hngh,” the younger gurgled. Josh curled his hands around the boy’s bicep and frowned at the clamminess of his skin.

“When did you fall ill?”

“’M n-not!” he gasped, falling against the sink and fumbling for the tap. Josh did it for him, filling up his cup and watching Tyler messily chug the majority of the cup.

“You’re so stubborn,” Josh tutted, guiding Tyler back to his bed to sit.

“N-no. Not sick,” he mumbled. “Poi- poison! She poisoned me.”

“Who?”

“K-Kelly. Gave- gave me somethin’,” he groaned, leaning back against his pillows.

“Tyler, I think you’re just delirious. Kelly wouldn’t poison you, you’re really ill. I’ll get to the medic wing and pick you somethin’ up, alright?”

“Please.”

The vulnerability in Tyler’s voice stopped Josh’s movements. He hadn’t heard the boy sound so young and miserable; a solemn reminder of the fact Tyler was a lost, misled boy.

“Poison,” he gasped, rolling onto his back with frantic eyes. “Needle. Poison,” he slurred, facing away from Josh and curling into a foetal position. Josh kept his gaze glued to Tyler’s sweat laced back for a moment, smiling sadly before running to the medic office.

Upon arrival, he saw Kelly at the desk. She was, once again, handing a small folded note to the young, terrified girl behind the counter. She slid it under the keyboard and blushed beneath Kelly’s glare. The therapist snuffed and paraded back toward her room. Josh quickly approached the counter.

“Hey,” he smiled. She was quiet and polite enough. “I need somethin’ for the flu.”

“You look fine to me,” she quirked, eyebrow rising in question. Josh frowned, rubbing his stomach enthusiastically.

“Please, I can sense it coming and I’ve got a long tutoring session ahead of me!”

“Alright, just a moment.”

She disappeared into the back to grab the medication. Josh quickly lent over the counter, swiping the small folded paper from the keyboard and pulling out his phone. He unravelled the creases and took a picture of the words written before placing it back. She returned without noticing, handing Josh the medication and wishing him a good day.

On the journey back to Tyler’s cell, he pulled up his photographs and found his most recent. He read the note with a confused grimace.

_Notice of medication change: Tyler Joseph – depression, drug induced psychosis._

_Previous medication: Clozapine_

_Medication change: Lunesta – to be administered under watch three times a day_

Josh’s head was reeling with questions as he reached Tyler’s cell. The boy was sitting up, chest exposed as the sweat dripped from him.

“How’re you feeling?” he inquired, taking out the medicine bottle and pouring some onto the plastic spoon. “Take this.”

“N-no!” Tyler cried. “Not again, please. Please, I don’t like it!”

“Hey, it’s alright!” Josh reassured, sitting himself beside Tyler and placing a gentle hand of his back. “It’s just flu medicine.”

Tyler turned his head to look at Josh. The pain in his eyes hurt like hell to the conflicted teacher. Although they were reeling from their comedown, Josh hadn’t seen anything so wise and intriguing before.

“Poison,” Tyler whined. “You- you’re workin’ with _her.”_

“It’s not poison, Tyler. I promise! Look,” he smiled, taking the spoon himself. He poured another and offered it with hopeful eyes. Tyler groaned and sloppily swallowed it, cringing at the taste. He lay back slightly, propping himself against the cell wall. Josh took a brief moment to admire Tyler’s body with its gleaming layer of sweat.

 Josh ached for a day of talking through each and every one of Tyler’s tattoos.

“Good boy. I came to ask why you weren’t in class but it’s pretty obvious,” the elder joked. “I’ll leave you alone now.”

A timid hand on his own stopped him. He glanced down to see Tyler’s frail hand encasing his on the bed, trapping it against the mattress.

“Please,” Tyler whispered. “Stay. Till I’m better.”

“Tyler, you’re unwell. You’ll be like this for a few days.”

“No!” he groaned, doing his best to turn himself over and glare at the non- understanding teacher. “Been- been like this before. Tried re-research chemicals and I- we reacted badly. Thought I was goin’ to die so please, stay until this passes.”

“I mean-“

“I _need_ you to stay,” Tyler barked. He lowered his voice and stared through wet lashes with heartbreaking orbs. “I’m scared.”

“Alright, Tyler. I’ll stay for a bit, alright?”

The younger boy smiled and lay his head down. He didn’t move his hand from Josh’s nor did Josh attempt to remove him. They exchanged light mumblings about general nothingness until Josh could hear Tyler’s faint snores. Unable to bring himself to move and spoil the moment, Josh toyed with him phone. He researched into Lunesta and found himself paling by the second.

He pulled him hand from Tyler’s, smoothing the boy’s moist hair with a caring caress.

“I’ll come check on you tomorrow,” he whispered before leaving the cell with every intention to flock to Kelly’s office and demand answers. He pounded on the door, throwing it open without waiting for a response. Inside, Kelly was perched at her desk with a cup of coffee, reading over notes with a frown.

“Joshua, how nice of you to at least knock. You could’ve been interrupting a session.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Excuse me?” she gasped. “I will not be spoken to like that! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Care to elaborate?” she sighed, as though bored with their conversation. Josh snarled at her angrily, storming closer to the desk and pulling up his photographs. He showed her the picture and to his disappointment, she didn’t flinch. Her eyes scanned the picture for a moment as she shrugged and took another sip. Josh pulled the mug from her hands and slammed it against the desk, ignoring the discomfort of the hot liquid on his skin.

“You changed Tyler’s medication!”

“Considering I’m his _therapist_ and you’re his _teacher,_ this really isn’t a conversation we need to be having, Joshua. You make sure he can put two and two together and I’ll take care of the rest, alright?”

“You’re hurting him! He’s not well!”

“You’re right,” she spat, standing and bending over the desk toward him. “He _is_ ill. His brain can’t cope with what he’s done and I’m afraid Tyler is scheduled for a psychotic breakdown _pretty_ soon. His old medication wasn’t helping his insomnia and he needs sleep, Joshua. It’s a shame. Cute boy, don’t you think?”

“You’re disgusting!” Josh barked, taking a step back as though he’d been burnt. She peered at him with a dumbfounded expression.

“Don’t go digging holes you can’t climb back out of, Josh. I have plans for a select few here. Things are going to change. You _don’t_ want to be part of that.”


	18. The Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your support and comments; they mean the world!!
> 
> xx

“Ninja, good to see you.”

“Likewise. You have job for me?”

The man across from Brendon was a slender yet sly man, tattoos peppered across his skin. His teeth, or therefore lack of, were off white and encrusted with gold. He was threatening purely by demeanour and Brendon was in a constant state of bewilderment at the fact they allowed him into the prison.

“I do. You know the gist of it, yeah? The kid’s name is Zack Joseph; he’s been blackmailed into helpin’ out Tyler’s old crew on a job. Tyler doesn’t want that. Now, you know as well as I do, I couldn’t give two shits what happens to this kid but I _need_ somethin’ from Tyler. You should see him, Ninja; he’s a fuckin’ natural. Can see it in his eyes, they _spark_ when there’s trouble. You’d like him.”

“Yes, I probably would. Are you wanting me to scout him when his prison time is over?” Ninja inquired, eyes trained to the guards that paced the aisles.

“Maybe. It depends if he does a good job for me or not. You need to go find this kid and stop whatever shit they’re draggin’ him into, alright? What you do afterwards, I don’t care about,” Brendon huffed, eyes trained to Mikey on the opposite side of the room, whose mother had erupted into tears after hearing of Gerard’s suicide watch.

“And how do you intend to pay me for my services? You are family; yes, but that does not mean a fee is not in order. You are in here, Brendon. I need payment. It is my youngest son’s birthday soon; I would like to get him something extravagant.”

“Of course! Tyler’s family are fuckin’ rich, man. I’ve been doin’ some diggin’ around and they’re sitting on a gold mine. Like I said, what you do afterwards is up to you. Fuckin’ hold the kid for ransom, sell him back to his family; I don’t care. Just ensure he remains unharmed and there’s no links back.”

“But of course. You want this done soon, yes?”

“Today,” Brendon ordered, watching Ninja with his usual glare. The elder man nodded thoughtfully, diverting his gaze to Mikey’s mother. With the majority of visitation left, Brendon casually rolled his eyes and turned the conversation away from the job.

“So, tell me how the kids are doin’.”

\--

“Mom, please! Calm down or they’ll remove you!” Mikey pleaded, eyebrows furrowed in worry. His mother was howling into a handkerchief; mascara running down the sides of her gaunt face.

“They’ve taken him _again!_ Oh Michael, where do I go wrong? Both of my beautiful son’s in a place like this and one of them doesn’t even want to be alive! Why is he like this, Michael? Why?”

“It’s not your fault, Mom!” he gasped, aware of the guard’s suspicious looks. “He just has a hard time dealing with things but Frank’s helping him a lot.”

“Frank?” she sniffed, a glimmer of hope in her voice.

As if on cue, Frank shuffled into the visitation lounge. It was an unwelcoming room with little attention to detail. His unwashed hair sat placid across uncomfortable features. Sad eyes scanned the room, briefly stopping to watch Mikey and his mother, who were in tern watching him.

“That boy?” his mother whispered, hand balling up at her upturned lips. Mikey nodded, throwing Frank a gentle smile which remained unreturned.

“Yeah, him. They’ve really helped each other but with Gerard away, Frank’s kind of... slipped.”

Mikey watched Frank stumble toward a table several rows across from them. A bitter looking woman sat cross armed on the hard plastic chair. She rolled her eyes with a scoff as Frank slid opposite her, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched. She leant across the table, clearly sneering words into her son’s face.

“Poor boy,” Mikey’s mother sighed, tears finally at rest. “He looks awfully unwell, dear. Is he sick?”

“Something like that,” Mikey muttered, nibbling his lip and raising questions about their father to change the conversation.

\--

“You’re using again.”

Frank shrank beneath his mother’s words as though a dark shadow had been cast.

“I could say the same about you,” he spat, fingers tangling in the shoulder length hair that hung like tails.

“Cut that fuckin’ hair, you look like a bitch. Or is that the look that gets them goin’ in here, hm?”

“Mom!”

“Well, you must be payin’ for it somehow. Christ, look at you! Like mother like son,” she hummed, twirling her own withering hair between skeletal fingers. “Gives them somethin’ to grab onto, right?”

“Stop it,” Frank barked, gripping the edge of the table with white knuckles. Movement to his left pulled his attention away as someone clambered from their seat. He spun to see Brendon giving a brief hug to man before him, a man that terrified him. Frank supposed it was Ninja.

_Ninja will help Tyler. Tyler will help Brendon. Brendon will help Gerard._

The thought settled Frank’s raging brain for a moment.

“I’m surprised you came,” Frank snarled, cautious of Brendon’s burning eyes on his back. She shrugged, taking a sip from the plastic cup of coffee in front of her.

“I have news about your Grandfather.”

The mention of his Grandfather brought Frank’s eyes to a close. He was an inspiration to the youngster before he’d got caught up in his web of troubles. He’d supported Frank through his darkest, scariest times. Lied to the police on countless occasions for the confused boy in hopes he’d get his act together. When his Grandfather had found Frank injecting for the first time, he saw he’d never seen a broken heart before; until that day.

There had been no anger, no shouting. There had simply been a warming kiss on the forehead and a bag packed for him the following morning.

He hadn’t seen him since.

“He’d be ashamed of you; of what you’ve become,” his mother snipped. “But like I said, I have news.”

“What?”

“He’s ill, Frank. Terminally. They’ve said there’s nothing more they can do.”

Frank could’ve sworn he felt his rib cage burst open, felt his heart leak and shatter from his chest across the table. He watched his mother’s face for a trace of a lie but the stone cold expression spoke volumes.

“He’s- what- _what?_ ”

“I didn’t say it was good news! Thought you’d be too smacked out your mind to care! It’s you that did this to him, y’know?” she sneered, words piercing like knives.

“No! He- he knows I _love_ him! I didn’t do any of this to hurt him,” Frank whimpered, eyes clouding with tears of regret.

“He doesn’t think that, Frank.”

“Tell him to come here, _please._ I- I need to see him if he hasn’t got long!” Frank panicked, hands curling through one another anxiously. The words that bled from his mother’s mouth hurt him more than anything he could remember.

“He doesn’t want to see you.”

\--

“Knock, knock.”

Tyler, no longer sweating profoundly, glared at the door of his cell. Josh stood, wide smile and bright eyed, peering in as though asking for entry. Tyler nodded and sat himself upright.

“How’re you feeling?”

“I feel strange,” Tyler whispered, eyes avoiding the handsome man before him as he set himself on his bed. “Empty, almost. I’m tired and confused; I don’t know what happened yesterday.”

“You were _very_ ill yester-“

“I was poisoned!” Tyler spat. “By that bitch. She has a vendetta against me, Josh. I’m tellin’ you! She- she threatened to send me on suicide watch. Have you ever been up there? It’s a fuckin’ nightmare.”

“Have you been feeling different lately?” the teacher prodded, noting Tyler’s frantic eyes searching the length of his cell.

“Different how?”

“I don’t know like, lost? Nervous?”

“The fuck you tryin’ to say?” Tyler laughed. “You think I’m finally losin’ my mind, right? Jesus, I didn’t think you were so weak to fall prey to her lies!” he accused, standing quickly and swaying; catching himself on the wall beside him.

“That’s not what I’m saying, Tyler! Honestly! I think Kelly’s changed your medication. I think it might be affecting you!”

“She’s got it out for all of us,” Tyler groaned, heat flaring up his cheeks. He sloppily undressed from his jumper and splashed his face with cold water. “She doesn’t like that I’m part of Brendon’s crew. She put Gerard on suicide watch to keep him from us! You have to help,” he gasped, stumbling to Josh’s side and bawling his fists in his shirt. Josh swallowed and pulled away from him with unease, aware of his fragile state.

“How can I help?” Josh gulped, pulling the boy down gently. He lent forward and placed his wearied head in open palms.

“I need you to get Gerard out of suicide watch. Frank’s having a breakdown and without Gerard, I’m scared he’s goin’ to do somethin’ stupid. Please,” Tyler whispered, eyes searching Josh’s face. “You have to help. You _have_ to see she’s not a good person. I’ll do _anything.”_

Josh was silent for a moment, thinking of how dangerous it was to become involved in his student’s personal business. He saw Tyler’s desperation flare in his pupils, hands clutching together as though in prayer. He recalled the boy’s vulnerability from the previous night; how their hands had comforted one another in a bleak moment. He swallowed hard.

“Come to my office tomorrow.”

Josh abruptly left. Tyler sighed into himself, the only comfort coming from the coolness of the wall steadying him. A dark chill ran over his body and he glared into the left corner of his cell.

There, amongst the shadows, stood the figure of a man Tyler hadn’t seen before.

_“Nice to finally meet you in person, Tyler Joseph.”_


	19. The Taste Of Ink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drug use / violence in this chapter!!!  
> Possible triggers.
> 
> Read carefully :)  
> xx

“Who are you?”

Tyler’s attention was unrelenting as he watched the shadow in the crease of his cell. The silhouette moved slowly with careful gestures, almost mirroring Tyler’s actions. The boy grew frustrated as the shadow refused to humour him.

“Fucking answer me!” he barked, jumping from the bed and stomping to face the hidden man. In front of him, Tyler felt miniscule in comparison. The shadow was broad and powerful; its lack of face caused a stir in Tyler’s stomach.

_“You already know who I am.”_

“Who are you talking to?”

He whipped his exasperated expression to the cell door, where Brendon was perched with a confused grimace. Tyler panicked, smoothing out the crinkles of his jumper with a nervous disposition. His eyes darted back to the shaded corner to where the shadow remained.

“No one,” he swallowed, turning away and inviting Brendon inside. He caught him glancing at the corner in question, facing Tyler with arched brows and frowning lips.

“You alright?” Brendon inquired, sitting himself on top of Tyler’s desk and watching as the boy before him fiddled uncomfortably; a far cry from the confident criminal he’d grown to admire.

“Great,” he nodded. “Just great! Just new meds, y’know? Bit jumpy is all.”

“Right... _anyway,_ visitation is over and Ninja’s on the job. Your brother is as good as saved.”

“Brendon, thank you. Really, I appreciate it. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to him.”

“Well, it wasn’t for your fuckin’ peace of mind, Joseph. You goin’ to get on your knees for teach or are we goin’ to have a problem?” Brendon growled, tensing his muscles through the thin t shirt. Tyler scoffed, tugging at the neck of his sweater.

“I’m workin’ on it. He, um, he told me to meet me in his office tomorrow.”

“Nice work,” the quiff haired boy laughed. A tense silence fell over the room causing Tyler to abruptly stand. The shadow in the corner mocked him, egging him forward toward Brendon. The boy opposite watched him carefully, eyes trailing his body in search of warning.

“Watch yourself,” Brendon huffed. Before Tyler could stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth, he tugged his sweater down and spoke his mind.

“You have to stop givin’ smack to Frank.”

Tyler could’ve sworn he saw murder flash through Brendon’s eyes. They were alive with the knowledge of Frank’s disloyalty; Tyler having obviously discovered their secret transactions.

“You been watchin’ my boy?” Brendon sniffed, arching his back from the wall and pushing out his chest. An ominous aura radiated from the corner, slithering across the flooring and wrapping itself around Tyler’s body. It was as though he was paralyzed, words forming around his lips that he’d had no intentions of spilling.

“No,” he shrugged, the familiar confidence engulfing him. “I walked in on him in his cell last night, he was practically droolin’ over that fuckin’ syringe. Really, Brendon? You gotta dope your boys before you fuck ‘em? Bet that _really_ fucks up your ego, right?”

Brendon slid from the desk, squaring up to Tyler with a snarl.

“You don’t scare me, Joseph. Just because you’re fucked in the head,” he spat, pressing a finger against Tyler’s temple. “Doesn’t mean I’m goin’ to piss my pants every time you think you’re tough shit.”

“It’s not me you have to worry about,” Tyler giggled, a blush blaring up his cheeks. “It’s him!” he laughed, pointing in the direction of the shadow. Brendon stole a glare in the direction of Tyler’s finger, finding nothing but an empty corner.

“Man, whatever shit Paolo had you hooked on must’ve really fucked you up.”

Tyler rumble d deep in his throat, balling tight fists in Brendon’s shirt. He threw the boy against the wall, their noses grazing momentarily.

“Say his name _one_ more fuckin’ time. I dare you.”

“P-“

“Guys!”

A frantic call from the door broke them apart; Tyler stumbled back several steps in shock. Mikey was half leaning into Tyler’s cell, a look of sheer panic written over his features. He was sweaty slightly and beckoning both boys outside.

“It’s Frank! You have to come!”

At the mention of the younger boy’s name, Brendon was hot on Mikey’s tail. They fled down the corridors toward Frank’s cell and the unsettled bubbling in Tyler’s stomach returned. Brendon pushed forward, yanking Mikey out of the way as he near fell into Frank’s cell. There, amongst the darkness, was Frank. He was laid out across the floor, sweat dripping from his hair and running along his pale features. He was shirtless, exposing his body as it shivered and writhed. His eyes were haunting, mere vacant tunnels that flickered and rolled under their lids.

“Frankie!” Brendon gasped, collapsing at his side. Discarded nearby was the empty syringe, innocent in its looks yet frighteningly dangerous.

“Is he overdosing?” Mikey panicked, fingernails chattering between his teeth. Tyler swallowed the shock and shook his head.

“No, but we need to get him off the floor. Was this your shit?” he prodded to Brendon. The boy silently shook his head, smoothing Frank’s fringe as they dragged him to his bed. He groaned with the movement and jerked as they lifted him up.

“He ran out of what I gave him,” Brendon explained. “He must’ve got that rough shit from H block! They’re fuckin’ amateurs; they cut it with some nasty shit.”

They nestled Frank into his bed as Mikey wet a rag beneath the tap and dabbed it across his sodden forehead.

“Why did he do this?” Tyler whispered, noting the bruised spot on the crease of his elbow, which appeared peppered in faded track marks.

“Something happened at visitation,” Mikey clarified. “His Mom must’ve said somethin’ to him ‘cause he started panicking bad and got upset. I came here after to see if he was alright and found him like that. Not very nice to see,” he swallowed, fingernails finding their way back to his mouth.

“Like I said, his mother is a fucking bitch,” Brendon scoffed, daring eyes greeting Tyler’s. They sat in silence for the best part of an hour before Frank began groaning, rolling from his slumped position and stumbling to the sink. He wretched relentlessly as dark bile splashed into the basin. When the nausea had passed, he swayed where he stood. Brendon instantly swaddled him, leading him back to his sweat soaked mattress.

“Don’t scare me like that,” Brendon whispered, resting a palm across his sunken cheek. Frank turned away, embarrassment and regretful. He burrowed his face into the remains of his pillow as Tyler stood above them.

“Who sold it to you?” he ordered. Frank mutely shook his head. Brendon watched the standing boy for a moment before nodding in agreement. He stood beside Tyler and glanced down at the damaged boy in the bed.

“Tell him, Frankie. You know I’ll find out.”

“Jay from H block,” he whimpered, eyes tightly screwed shut. Mikey soothingly rubbed his shoulder. Brendon and Tyler glanced at each other, hatred cast aside for a brief moment. Brendon encased the back of Tyler’s neck in his grasp like how he had when he offered Tyler a job as a shotter. Their foreheads clunked together; a silent conversation shared between the pair. Tyler rolled his neck and smirked at himself. He felt his knuckles crack as the shadow from his cell emerged beside Frank’s bed.

“I’ll stay with him,” Mikey reassured. Brendon crouched next to Frank and kissed his on the cheek gently.

“I’ll be back soon, Prince. You’ll be okay, I’ll make sure of it.”

Tyler stole the dirty needle from the floor as Brendon guided him out of the room. Tyler could feel his grip on reality slipping away as he was pulled and pushed down seemingly endless corridors until they came to a smaller block. A large letter H stood above the doorway. Tyler grunted as he spotted the hefty looking guard at the gate.

“Please,” Brendon scoffed, striding up to him with confidence. He dug his hand around at the waist of his trousers and nodded sharply at the guard; who appeared jittery at the sight of the younger man. They quickly shook hands and Tyler didn’t miss the small baggy and off brown powder that slid between palms.

The bolt of the door creaked open.

“His room is number 65,” Brendon explained. “Little prick. He’s been sellin’ that rough blow for weeks. Me and Gerard gave given him chance after chance-“

“Too late,” Tyler snapped. “Time’s up.”

Brendon grinned as Tyler’s pace intensified. He smiled at the boy’s back as he sharply turned a corner, arriving at Jay’s cell. He stared at the door with dead eyes for a moment before gripping the bars and yanking it open. The boy on the bed, a red headed, wide eyed criminal, gasped at the sight of Tyler and Brendon.

“Hey, what are you doin?! Get the fuck out!”

Tyler lunged at the bed, dragging at the boy from his position and throwing him against his desk. Tyler could feel the anger, distaste and _violence_ seeping from his knuckles with every punch. It was as though every hit, every smack and cry of pain was sending him deeper into himself. The shadow had followed him, lingering inconspicuously in the corner; praising Tyler’s every move. Unknowingly to him, Brendon had perched himself beside the shadow, also cheering Tyler on as he pummelled into the howling kid in his grasp.

“Please! What did I do?” Jay cried, cowering from Tyler’s touch. Blood splattered across Tyler’s demonic expression as his eyes darkened with delight.

“You must repent,” he spat, head butting the boy until his nose sickeningly cracked and crunched. Tyler’s knuckles were split and oozing crimson as he refused to ease his anger.

_“Enough.”_

The shadow had spoken to him. He instantly uncurled his clasp on Jay’s shirt as he stared sparingly at it. Brendon furrowed his brows and moved forward, grabbing Jay for himself and throwing several angry kicks into the boy’s stomach. Jay vomited across the ground of his cell and Brendon laughed and cheered. Tyler staggered toward the shadow as if it were calling his name. He stood before it, willing it for direction. Silently, the shadow pointed at Tyler’s pocket and motioned toward the blubbering boy on the floor.

_“You know what to do.”_

Without hesitation, Tyler returned to Brendon’s side as Jay tried to hide within the concrete.

“Where is it?” Tyler ordered. When Jay didn’t answer, he took a fistful of the boy’s hair and bent his neck back as far as he could manage. “Either you tell me where the fuck it is or I’ll have to tell my friend’s on _our_ fuckin’ block what a pretty little redhead lives down here.”

“In- in the mattress!” he sobbed. “There’s a hole near the pillow! _Please,_ don’t! I’m sorry, he was desperate! He was cryin’ and sayin’ he didn’t know what else to do! Please!”

“You could’ve killed him,” Brendon shrugged, digging into the mattress and withdrawing the substance. “You so much as look in his fuckin’ direction, it’ll be the last fuckin’ thing you ever do.”

“Okay! Okay!” he pleaded, writhing in Tyler’s hands as Brendon prepared the heroin with expertise. Tyler pulled out the dirty needle from his pocket and tossed it to Brendon. Jay collapsed into a fit of tears and worry as the syringe was filled. Tyler grabbed it from Brendon, ordering him to lay the boy flat.

_“He deserves this. Frank could have died.”_

Tyler nodded to himself, making eye contact with the terrified boy. He slid the needle into a prominent vein and emptied the contents. The boy groaned and curled up, eyes instantly jumping to the back of his head. He leant over the boy’s convulsing body and rubbed his hands over the syringe. He discarded it in the rip of the mattress and gave him one more forceful kick as he headed toward the cell door.

En route, he could himself in the reflection of the dirty mirror above the sink. He was splattered in blood and there was a decaying presence beneath his eyes that even Tyler hadn’t seen before. Brendon appeared behind him, hands slamming down on his shoulders with a grin.

“Fuck me, Tyler! You’re an _animal._ I don’t know why I doubted you.”

“I have to get cleaned up,” Tyler murmured, quickly washing his face and hands to the sound of Jay’s gagging. He turned his jumper inside out to hide the stains as Brendon pulled him out of the cell. The shadow had disappeared along with the burning rage that’d taken him over.

He walked alongside Brendon numbly, listening to the other buzz and rave about their revenge. The sting in his knuckles seemed to be the only thing keeping his rooted as he floated back toward their block. He felt as though he wasn’t walking but merely drifting by; like he’d been pulled into an alternative time line. He was vaguely aware of Brendon’s arm slinking around his shoulders, pulling him in close and thanking him.

When they arrived back at Frank’s cell, the younger boy had fallen into a peaceful slumber. Mikey was still perched, as promised, at the foot of the bed; hands curled tightly around a new and tattered book. He was trembling lightly at the sight of the two boys.

“What happened?”

“This guy,” Brendon cheered, pointing at Tyler. “Is _insane._ Like, literally, you’re out of your fuckin’ head, man! In a good way, though. Jay isn’t goin’ to be sellin’ that shit anymore.”

“You didn’t kill him, did you?” Mikey whined, ever the innocent soul. Tyler cleared his throat and shook his head.

“No. But we did fuck him up.”

“I would’ve killed him,” Brendon spat. “But Frankie would never forgive me.” He sat beside the snoring boy and ran his fingers through tangled hair.

“How was he when we left?”

“He didn’t really say much. Just kept askin’ when Tyler was goin’ to get Josh to help Gerard...”

Brendon bit his lip sharply and swallowed the jealously building in his stomach. _Frank would be his. Frank would be his. Frank_ is _his._

“I’m seeing him tomorrow,” Tyler offered. “He’ll help. He wants to.”

“He seems like a good guy,” Mikey noted.

“Jesus, when did everyone in _my_ fuckin’ crew turn into such pussies? Get your fuckin’ shit together. Fuck a nice guy! Tyler, you do whatever the fuck you have to, yeah? Break him if you have to. Fuck, you ape shit on his ass like I _just_ saw you do! Just get it done. Now both of you, leave. I need to speak with Frankie.”

“But-“

“I said _fuck off.”_

Tyler pulled Mikey out of Frank’s cell with trembling hands. Mikey noted his disorientation and lay a calming hand on his back.

“Tyler, is everything alright? You seem out of it... more than usual, anyway.”

Tyler flickered his gaze upward. At the end of the corridor, as though awaiting his arrival, was the shadow man. His head was titled left, stood slack yet threatening.

“I don’t know, Mikey. Something big is coming. I can s _ee_ it.”


	20. Split Vision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normal italics are the shadow.
> 
> Bold italics are Paolo. 
> 
> Read with care :)
> 
> xx

“Do you ever feel vacant?”

“Is that how you feel?” Kelly pressed, hands sprawling paper lines, filling pages with Tyler’s ramblings. The boy’s wide eyes were restless, jumping corner to corner in search of the shadow he’d grown accustomed to. He sat cross legged, hands impatient as they fiddled with a sponge ball Kelly kept for quieter patients.

“Tyler?”

He snapped his hallow glare toward her face; no trace of the sympathetic therapist she’d once been. Instead, a cold and hardened snarl of resentment sat in its place. It sent chilling tingles along the vertebrates of Tyler’s spine, like tiny spiders inside him.

“You’ve made my head busy again,” he whispered, eyes now glued to her grimace. She huffed, adding to her notes with an almost satisfied smirk. Afterwards, she closed the cover and settled her hands against her lap. Tyler’s attention had once again withered, instead drawn to Kelly’s desk. There, in mockery of her usual stance, sat Tyler’s favourite shadow. He cackled, teeth bared and pupils dilated at the arrival of his newest friend.

“You did that to yourself, Tyler. If you behaved, we wouldn’t have this problem. You can’t keep yourself out of trouble.”

“You did something to me,” he mumbled, his stare unmoving from the shadow as he motioned toward his therapist.

“Tyler, you can’t project your problems onto other people. You have to own up to what you’ve done, only then can you begin the healing process.”

_“She is the one who must heal.”_

“You must heal,” Tyler murmured.

“Excuse me?” she gasped, hand risen to her chest. The shadow’s head fell sideways, Tyler mirroring effortlessly.  “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

A glitch to his right stole his attention, gormless expression flocking to inspect. Tyler heaved a breath, eyes wide with disbelief. The shadow hummed beside Kelly’s desk, now standing to cast its ominous silhouette across the room. Kelly watched in unease as Tyler’s hand fell slack, the small sponge ball bouncing to the ground and rolling to sit neatly at her foot. He was transfixed at the space beside him; despite her efforts to keep him grounded.

“Tyler, is there someone else in the room?”

The boy could not speak; mouth void of moisture and lips glued shut. Only his eyes were alive, frantically searching what he could see before him. There, in the midst of Kelly’s office, with the shadow creeping closer to where she sat; stood Paolo.

_“ **My boy**.”_

Tyler swallowed, head nodding without effort. Paolo was pale, a sickly hue to his once bright, handsome features. His lifeless hair sat unkempt and blood crusted. Eyes that once shone with vigour were cold, bottomless holes that clawed into the depths of Tyler’s mind.

“Tyler, what can you see?” Kelly swallowed, her anticipation of Tyler’s illness a far cry from the reality of what she’d done.

Tyler watched in horror as Paolo moved his right hand, red stained and shaking, to reveal a brutal bullet wound that tore through his chest. The boy’s breath escaped him, chest collapsing inward as a river of crimson gushed from the hole and bled over the fabric of the couch. It soaked through the cushions, darkening their colour as it trickled closer. Tyler whimpered, pushing himself back toward the opposite end of the couch, unable to halt the blood from edging closer.

“ ** _You did this._** ”

“No,” Tyler cried, tears sprouting at the edge of his eyes. He gently shook his head, frown deepening at Paolo’s betrayal. “No! No!”

“Tyler, it’s okay!” Kelly panicked, placing her book against the table and leaning forward. She was reluctant to touch him in case he lashed out in fear. Her words did nothing to deter him as he crumbled in terror of what stood before him. He crawled across the couch as she beckoned his name.

“ ** _There is only one way you can make it up to me, my boy._** ”

“Anything!” Tyler pleaded, willing the blood and wound to disappear. Paolo’s charming smile did little to comfort him as he turned his expression toward Kelly. Tyler followed his gaze to see Kelly perched forward, a look of bewildered fret across her features. The shadow now stood directly behind her, its looming presence unknown to her unsuspecting mind.

“What does this mean?”

“Are you talking to me, Tyler?” Kelly begged, willing to boy to bring himself back to reality. “Are you with me?”

He did not respond. He felt the couch sag beneath the pressure of Paolo’s body as he sat beside Tyler. He placed a stained palm against Tyler’s thigh and the boy couldn’t distinguish reality.

“ ** _Watch closely. You will do the same when the time is ready. Only then will equilibrium be restored. Only then, will you understand why you are my favourite._** ”

Paolo gestured with his free hand as the grip on Tyler’s thigh intensified. The shadow, in one swift movement, swooped forward and caught Kelly’s throat in its claw. Paolo chuckled beside him as the shadow, without mercy, tore Kelly’s neck away. The skin stretched and ripped, blood spurting out and splashing Paolo and Tyler. Veins dangled down across her chest as she sagged backward, gasping and choking for her final breaths. Paolo’s laugh turned frantic as Tyler began shaking his head.

“No! I can’t! I-I _want_ to but I can’t!”

He stumbled to a stand, near collapsing as the world around him spun and flittered. Despite the presence of the shadow, Tyler darted toward Kelly, grabbing her arm and sobbing as the crimson lake engulfed his skin.

“Please,” he snivelled. “I didn’t do it! I didn’t do it!”

“ ** _You must prove your worth!”_** Paolo croaked, now stood behind Tyler with a threatening palm against his shoulder.

“No!”

“Tyler!” Kelly screamed, latching onto his trembling hands. The boy jolted, eyes searching Kelly’s worried expression as she stood. Their hands were tightly clasped as he glanced downward; his skin was no longer pooled with her blood. The shadow had retreated to its favourite hiding spot amongst Tyler’s thoughts. He released Kelly’s hands, spinning on his heel in search of Paolo; he found nothing.

“Tyler-“

Tyler hunched over himself, vomit splashing over his lips as reality crashed around him. Strings of bile swung from his lips as Kelly crouched beside him.

“What’s happening to me?” he whimpered, ashamed to look at her.

“You’re going to be alright, Tyler,” she promised, in attempt to reassure herself.

The timer signalled the end of their session and Kelly dismissed him, refusing his offers to clean the vomit. As Tyler closed the door, leaving her with a sense of edge and worry, his terrified face was etched to her memory.

\--

“Tyler!”

“Hey Frank,” he nodded, trying to escape to the comfort of his cell in peace. “You’re lookin’ better than yesterday.”

“Yeah, about that... I’m so sorry, Tyler. I didn’t mean to put you in a compromising situation with Brendon; I know he kinda flips shit about stuff. But I wanted to say thank you for helpin’ me and I know what you did to Jay.”

“Let me guess, Brendon pinned it all on me,” he laughed, accepting the cigarette Frank offered him.

“Same old,” Frank smiled. “It’s okay, Tyler. I know what he’s like. You’re not comin’ for yard time?” the smaller boy questioned, motioning toward the exit. Tyler frowned, glancing around him and noting the emptiness of the block.

“It’s yard time already?”

“Is everything alright with you?” Frank frowned. “Seems like your head is further in the clouds than usual.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s nothing; just a rough therapy session.”

“Ah, Kelly’s a bitch!” Frank giggled. He pushed the door open and drank in the bright sunlight. Tyler could tell Frank was craving, teeth chattering and eyes darting, but he remained quiet. He’d been in Frank’s shoes more times than he’d like to admit and the self embarrassment was enough.

Outside, Tyler easily spotted Brendon and Mikey. They appeared in hush conversation, much to Tyler’s displeasure. Brendon had an infamous ability to decay and infect those around him. Frank was a shining denotation of every aspect of Brendon’s possessive and abusive tendencies and Tyler was stern in believing he wouldn’t let the same happen to Mikey; especially with Gerard locked away.

“Frankie!” Brendon grinned as they drew closer. He instantly wrapped the boy in a strong embrace, inhaling his cigarette and muttering in the smaller boy’s ear. Frank looked uncomfortable yet resigned, no longer able to fight against Brendon’s infatuation.

“You’re seein’ Josh today, right?” Mikey inquired, a desperate glint behind his glasses. Tyler offered a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah, after yard time. The day has escaped me,” he shrugged. “Not really sure how it’s goin’ to go down.”

“It better go down a little like you two fuck and Gerard gets released back,” Brendon snarled. Frank paled beneath him.

“Yeah?” Tyler mocked. “And what happens if I come onto him and he pushes me back? What happens when he gets _my_ ass thrown in segregation for inappropriate behaviour? And how the fuck do I even know Ninja fuckin’ helped my brother?”

“You got a lot of questions today,” Brendon stated, unimpressed by Tyler’s lack of submission. “I’m a man of my word, Joseph. I pride myself on that and I don’t have time to listen to you be a little bitch. He won’t throw you in segregation unless you fuckin’ pull a blade on him, alright? I scratched your back, now it’s your fuckin’ turn. So, you either hold your end of the deal,” Brendon sniffed, uncurling his long limbs from around Frank’s stiff body as he stepped toward Tyler. “Or Ninja pays your brother another visit.”

Tyler leapt forward as Mikey intercepted. He threw both boys apart and kept a steady hand on Tyler’s chest. The boastful smirk on Brendon’s face fuelled the anger that coursed through Tyler’s body; cheeks red and hands clenched into fists.

“You fucking prick,” Tyler spat across the boy in front of him.

“Stop! Enough!” Mikey huffed. “There’s guards lookin’ over here so unless you _both_ wanna get your asses chucked into seg, you better sort this shit out somewhere else! Tyler,” he pleaded, “Please, you have to try. I-I can’t be away from Gerard for too long. He’s my fuckin’ _brother_ , man... I need him here. We _all_ need him here, okay? You have to try.”

“For you,” he muttered, nudging Mikey’s chest. “And Frank.”

He stormed away from the boys and threw open the entrance. He paced through the corridors, growing closer to Josh’s classroom. The tremble in his knees worsened as the weight of the situation became apparent. If Tyler was unable to persuade Josh into helping him, his brother could face an unspeakable fate. Frank would crumble, submitting to Brendon’s will. Mikey would breakdown. He feared for Gerard mostly, isolated in suicide block, left alone with the very thoughts that haunted him. Tyler swallowed him panic and pushed open the door.

“Oh! Shit! Tyler, you scared the crap outta me,” Josh chuckled, wiping away the droplets of coffee that peppered his shirt.

“Sorry, I’m early. Do you want me to-“

“No, no! It’s fine!”

Tyler blushed, suddenly nervous under Josh’s scrutiny. He motioned to the seat on the opposite side of his desk.

“We don’t have long,” Josh sighed. “Kelly has summoned me to her office.”

Tyler thought about his therapy session and paled. She had the power to turn Josh against him.

“You can’t go,” he panicked. “You can’t listen to her!”

“I’m sure she just wants to go over something. It’s fine, Tyler.”

“No!” he bellowed angrily. “She’ll feed you her lies and you won’t want to help me! I have too much riding on this, Josh. Fuck! Please, don’t go.”

Josh pondered Tyler’s anxiety for a moment.

“Are bad things going to happen if I don’t help you, Tyler?”

“Yes. Bad, bad things and I can’t- I can’t let them happen!”

“Can you tell me? I can’t help you unless you tell me everything, Tyler. This- this is serious; I’m putting my job at risk if I do this.”

“I can’t tell you everythin’,” the boy muttered, a light blush dusting his features. “Some of it you don’t want to hear. I just need you to take this chance. I’m worth taking a chance for.”

“I can tell,” Josh smiled, hand tightening around the handle of his coffee mug. Tyler tried to brighten his posture, appear more sexually appealing to the man before him. The burning lust in Josh’s gaze was evident but Tyler was determined to seal the deal.

“If you help me, I’ll make it worth your while until you say so. I’m at your will.”

“Tyler, are you implying what I think you are?” Josh’s tone thickened to a serious grunt. Tyler inhaled, Brendon’s words ricocheting around the walls of his mind. They pulled him toward Josh, the threat hanging above their heads.

“Please, sir,” he pouted, standing from the plastic chair and slinking to Josh’s side of the desk. “I’ll do anything.”

“Tyler, I-I think-“

“You think too much,” he giggled, fiddling with the end of the teacher’s tie. “Maybe just this once, you shouldn’t think so much with this,” he mused, running a hand through Josh’s hair and tugging, trailing it along his toned chest until he rested on top of the button to his pants.

“I-you- I”

“Y’know, you’re not the only one with things to teach.”

“What’re you t-talking about?” Josh gasped.

“Let me show you.”


	21. Threat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the late update. I'm not entirely happy with anything that I'm writing at the minute, hence the short and somewhat awful update. 
> 
> I'll do my best to salvage what I can from this story as I don't want to abandon it.
> 
> As always, read with caution and if you guys are feeling nice, could you comment (maybe where you want the story to go?) so I know if I'm heading in a direction everyone is enjoying.
> 
> xxx

“Tyler.”

The boy in question was unable to respond. It was as though his clouded senses had slipped out of his reach; dangling tauntingly through the mist at the hand of his demons. He could see his fingers curled around the fabric of Josh’s tie, enticing the teacher closer as the space between them melted. His arms, though not under his will, slunk their way around the width of Josh’s shoulders as their lips grazed; teeth clashing and foreheads meeting. Josh mouth found the crook of Tyler’s neck like fangs sinking into flesh. Tyler’s eyes flickered and rolled beneath the pressure.

**_“Good boy.”_ **

His jagged vision found Paolo, still blood stained and smirking, perched in the corner of the room. He watched the pair fumble with sick validation. Amongst the atmosphere lay the shadow, somewhat infecting the cracks of Tyler’s mind as the boy submerged deeper into the moment. Tyler couldn’t deter his gaze from the man who’d controlled him; his puppeteer. Josh’s lips popped away from the swollen flesh in a gentle grin. He searched for Tyler’s eyes to find them enthralled in the vacant corner.

“Tyler?”

The boy did not respond.

**_“Keep him interested.”_ **

Turning away from Paolo, Tyler’s nervous hands griped at Josh’s shirt buttons but the elder’s palms stilled them. He glared up to a wearied expression; a sad glint alive in the teacher’s eyes. Frowning, Tyler attempted to loosen the grip to continue his work but Josh strength outweighed him.

“Not like this,” he sighed, placing Tyler’s hands at his sides against the desk.

“We can go into the storage cupboard?”

“No, Tyler! Not like this. Not in this place, not in return for something and not while you’re sick!” he yelled, stepping away as though Tyler’s skin had burned him. The younger boy startled; Josh’s words like a knife to his stomach. He gripped the edge of the desk with fury, knuckles white as Paolo’s smirk faded into a tight grimace. Tyler could feel the displeasure radiating from the corner. The shadow warped and darkened as Josh readjusting his tie.

“Sick?” Tyler spat, shoving himself from the desk and broaden his stance.

“I just don’t want to take advantage of you.”

**_“He thinks you’re weak. He must’ve spoken to Kelly.”_ **

“You’re in on this with her!” he accused, hands buried in the nest of his hair. He paced the length of the classroom as Josh watched him anxiously. Paolo’s antagonising jabs stung him as Josh reassured him that _he wasn’t thinking straight._

“I’m on your side, Tyler, I promise! I want to help you.”

“Then fucking prove it!” he growled, leg flaring out to disrupt the row of tables. They crumbled into one another and smacked the ground as the pressure at the base of his skull intensified. Tyler was quickly slipping as Josh took a tentative step forward; palms outstretched in a means to prove his innocence. He glared at the teacher with a sickening vacancy that sent chills trickling along his back. Tyler’s lip twitched into a smirk as he pounced forward, plummeting Josh into the wall beside them. His eyes were wide with fear as Tyler grasped his neck in a tight hold, applying slight pressure as he sneered in his face.

“You do everything in your power to get Gerard back-“

“Ty- Tyler I- I can’t br-breathe!”

“’Cause I don’t think ‘teacher sexually abuses mentally ill criminal student’ makes a good headline. Right?”

“R-right!” he cried, the pressure dissolving as Tyler stumbled backward. The intensity of his gaze had disappeared along with the malice of his expression. Paolo stood waiting for Tyler at the door frame as he fumbled closer through the maze of overturned desks. He freed himself from the classroom, vanishing around the corner as Josh raked in the air around him. His hands trembled in shock as he collapsed into his desk chair, somewhat tainted by Tyler’s presence. Despite the hostility, Josh could sense the vulnerability that lurked beneath Tyler’s surface and he was felt compelled to help him; no matter what was at stake.

He found himself wondering what Kelly wanted from him.

\--

Frank was knelt before him bible, muttering prayers to himself in the comfort of his cell. Brendon had left him for a brief moment of self reflection as he tended to work on another block. Several inches in front of his knee sat a picture of Frank’s grandfather.

He hadn’t long pulled himself from an intense high after a guard had nearly caught him; only bargaining reason with the aid of Brendon’s persuasion. Frank was made to pay for the baggie that Brendon had been forced to sacrifice and the unwelcomed taste remained present at the back of his throat.

“Frank?”

He hushed his rambling to find Tyler peering into his cell.

“Tyler! Come in.”

He struggled to his feet, swooping the picture of his Grandfather in his hands with a quick kiss. He leant it against the bible on the shelf and staggered to sit on the edge of his bed. He watched Tyler study the picture with a sad smile.

“You’ve used again,” the taller boy stated without glancing at the ashamed criminal. Frank lowered his gaze and instead sparked interest in the tattered sole of his shoe.

“I can’t help it,” he shrugged. “It’s like I have no control without Gerard. I don’t mean to let you down, Tyler.”

“You’re not letting anybody down, Frank. No one here is a saint.”

The smaller boy exhaled, eyes closing as though Tyler’s words had been the comfort he’d been searching for. The bed beside him dipped as Tyler joined him and lay a warm palm on his shoulder to rest.

“Josh is goin’ to help us, Frank. I made sure of it.”

Without warning, a pair of trembling arms were clutching at Tyler’s stomach in a tight and frantic hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Inmates!”

A rough call from the door frame ripped the boys apart. Frank swallowed his shame as the same guard that’d nearly reported him stood, pupils dilated, gesturing for him. A look of resigned sorrow was woven over his features; a look that wrote nerves into Tyler’s stomach. He followed close behind Frank, a reassuring hand on the small of his back.

“Yes, officer?”

“There’s someone here to see you.”


	22. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really happy with this chapter :)
> 
> Taking your comments on board and will include and explore Kelly's character within the next few chapters. As for Frank, he's still got a little more suffering to do. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter and thank you for supporting the story this far :) It means a lot when people acknowledge the hard work it takes to write sometimes, especially when you're not in a great place.
> 
> There is some description of drug use in this chapter so caution for that. 
> 
> XXX

“Frank.”

The boy in question stood fixated, bloodshot eyes wide with disbelief. His hands, quivering in the elder’s presence, curled into the fabric of his sweatpants. There, slumped into a wheelchair and heaving uneven breaths, was Frank’s grandfather. His ashen expression bore painful holes through Frank’s chest as he surveyed what his Grandfather had become. Gaunt and displeased, he motioned the younger boy forward.

“Sit,” he ordered, gesturing to the plastic chair on the opposite side of the table. A jug of water sat between them as Frank slid into the chair, unable to meet the elder’s concerned eyes, sunken from exhaustion. The guard ensured the room was settled before reassuring he’d be outside the door if needed, leaving them alone in smothering silence.

A moment passed between them before Frank built up the courage to glance upward, their eyes meeting for the first time. He staggered a breath and tugged the sleeves over his skeletal fingers.

“Your mother tells me you’re using again.”

“She- she said you didn’t want to see me,” Frank whispered, swallowing the bitterness that gurgled at the back of his throat. He watched his Grandfather pour two cups of water, nudging one towards him. He reached out for the paper cup, a frail hand catching his wrist in a flash.

“Show me,” the elder muttered, gently tugging at the sleeve. Frank was reluctant, shaking his head furiously and attempting to retrieve his arm back but his Grandfather was relentless. Taking a deep breath, Frank used his free hand to peel back the fabric and reveal his emaciated, inked arm. There, amongst the patches of clear, pale skin sat peppered track marks that oozed crimson and glimmered bitterly beneath the harsh lights above them. Some were mere scars, faded between the tattoos but Frank knew the more recent marks were evident in their soreness.

“Your mother was right,” he sighed, covering his frown with a shaking palm.

“About using?”

“About me not wanting to come here.”

Frank nodded, resigned in his actions, covering the evidence and pulling his arms beneath the table before he could be stopped.

“Not because I don’t want to see you, Frank but it breaks my heart. You- you were everything I had,” he whispered, voice broken and cracked. “Remember all the nights we stayed awake playing guitar? Listening to music your mother hated. I was so proud of you. You promised you’d make it; you were goin’ to be a famous musician, remember?”

“Yes,” Frank whimpered, eyes downcast and focused on his bouncing knees.

“And now look at you! I did everything I could to protect you from following in your mother’s footsteps. Perhaps I tried too hard. Maybe I drove you to this-“

“No! I-I was _stupid._ I was an angry kid that didn’t understand why- why my Mom loved gettin’ high more than she ever loved me. The worst thing is,” Frank choked, ignoring the tear that slid along his cheekbone. “I think I get it now.” He voice fractured as he buried a heartbroken grimace in his arms, sobbing loudly as his Grandfather rubbed gentle circles over his piercing shoulder blades.

“It’s not too late, Frank. You can still-“

“No, it _is_ too late! The- the things I’ve done, you’d never look at me the same!”

“Frank, I know. It’s alright.”

“You have no idea!”

His Grandfather huffed, grabbing Frank’s jawbone and steadying his head. They stared at each other through blurred eyes for a brief moment before the elder ran his hand over his Grandson’s grease slicked hair.

“I _know._ I watched your mother go through the exact same. Your- your mother hasn’t told you what happened when you first came here, did she?” The sadness that ran through his tone unsettled Frank’s stomach. He shook his head and awaited the inevitably bad news.

“When the police found you, you were unconscious in that- that _idiot’s_ apartment; if you can call it that. They said you were practically dead; a miracle you survived. I felt blessed knowing you were still alive, Frank but when they showed me the photographs, I wasn’t sure it was you I was looking at,” he whispered, hands falling into his jacket pocket to retrieve a small package.

“Photographs?” Frank pressed, wiping the last of his tears away.

“They took photographs as evidence. They also found a lot of pictures in stacks around the apartment. They told me they couldn’t show them all to me; they feared it’d be too much. I can only imagine what they were but they showed me some. I- I couldn’t believe it, Frank. I hadn’t seen you for so long; I assumed you- you were gone but here were these officers, telling me you were alive!”

He unfolded the package, pulling out five photographs and laying them out against the table in single file. Frank, reluctant to see their contents, waited until his Grandfather pushed them closer.

“These were the only photographs I saved. The first two are from the apartment; the last three are ones the police took.”

Frank pulled them toward him, feeling bile rise to the back of his throat. The first photograph showed the living room Frank remembered all too well. Silence fell over the pair as he studied the picture; memories flashing violently through his head. He couldn’t remember that particular night, too strung out on whatever had been rushing through his system. The room was trashed, needles and small piles of cocaine and heroin on surfaces of every kind. Empty beer bottles and waste littered the filthy room so much so that Frank could practically smell the stench through the photo. There, on the battered, torn couch in the centre of the room, he could see himself. He was stark naked, laying on his front. His body was painfully thin, covered with dark purple bruises and smears of crimson. His face was squished against one of the cushions, eyes rolled to the back of his head. Though his mouth was gaping open, Frank wasn’t sure he was even breathing. His arm was hanging over the couch, exposed to the camera. It was oozing blood from the many track marks and scars that ruined his skin.

“I don’t remember that,” Frank whispered, turning the photo over and pushing it back toward the other side of the table. He glanced at the second photograph, a snapshot of Frank sitting on the lap of the man that ruined his life. They were clothed, cuddling against the metal fire escape of the apartment building. Frank, though his eyes were slightly lidded, seemed more alive in the picture as a cigarette hung lazily from his lips. He was still slender in the photograph but Frank remembered it was from the early days; when he’d just started using.

“I’m not surprised. I- I would’ve never kicked you out if I thought you were going to end up somewhere like that, Frank.”

This sparked anger in the younger boy as he grabbed the third photograph.

“What the fuck did you expect?” he spat. “You _abandoned_ me. I didn’t have a choice.”

“I couldn’t watch another loved one fall to pieces under my roof!”

Frank studied the third photograph; the first of the pictures taken by the police. It was the large trunk that was kept in the bedroom, filled with guns, pounds of weed in wrapped blocks and rags slathered in blood. Frank was well accustomed to the trunk, having spent many days sorting out the contents as payment for his heroin. He peered at the fourth picture and what he found sent him trembling.

Lying on the bedroom floor, a single bullet wound tearing through his chest, was the man that started Frank’s downward spiral. He was surrounded by a thick pool of blood and the vacant expression on his face sent chills down his spine.

“An officer tried to get to you and he didn’t like that. He attacked them brutally and so they shot him in the chest. They were concerned you were dead-“

“Where was I?” Frank gasped, unable to burn the image from the backs of his lids. It churned his stomach to think of it though he was somewhat happy he couldn’t remember the day. He’d been far too out of his mind. Wordlessly, his Grandfather slid across the final snapshot and watched the younger boy’s face crumble. Frank was laying in the bathtub, half filled with murky, freezing water. He was, again, naked yet this time even thinner. His ribs were frighteningly exposed as his transparent skin ran thin over his bones. His arm was a sickly shade of mauve as an infected track mark bled out over the floor and along his arm and wrist. His features were unrecognisable, eyes swollen from a beating and cheeks ghostly gaunt. His head was shaved, cracked slightly above his left ear that left red stains down his neck.

“You overdosed,” the elder explained, voice thick with worry. “That man had tried to shock you by putting you in the bath but it- it hadn’t worked. You were so close to dying, Frank. I- I nearly lost you and look! Look how you would’ve gone. Lying in some dirty bathtub in some shitty apartment, smacked out of your mind,” he cried, uncaring of the moisture running down his face.

“Why did you keep these?” Frank swallowed, still staring at the picture.

“So I could remind myself of what I did to you. How I let you down. I swore to myself if you ever got outta here that I’d be there to look after you, y’know? Now look at me! I’m not even gonna be around when you get out, Frank. I messed up- _we_ messed up and as much as it breaks my heart to see you in here, kid, I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

“Can I keep this?” he inquired, placing the gruesome photograph down against the table. His Grandfather nodded as Frank stood, stumbling toward him and engulfing him in a tight embrace. They shared a caring moment before the guard was banging furiously on the door.

“Times up!”

“No, please! Five more minutes!” he cried, refusing to release the sickly man in his arms. The guard was uncaring, ripping open the door and parading inside. His Grandfather choked back a sob as Frank was torn from his grasp.

“Please, look after yourself. It’s never too late to make a change, son. I love you and I always will.”

“I love you!” Frank sobbed, grabbing the photograph as the guard pushed him toward the door. He stole one last glance at the devastated man who’d raised him; given him everything he could’ve wanted. In that moment, Frank hadn’t regretted his past discretions. Once out of the room, his chest felt constricted with a painful sense of resignation.

“Back to your cell,” the guard snapped, glaring at Frank with disgust in his eyes. He staggered away from the room, cradling the photograph in his hands as memories of his life before prison poisoned him.

“I’m sorry I never made it,” Frank whimpered to himself, turning the corner and disappearing down the corridor.

\--

“Come in!” Kelly called, perched at her desk as she studied Tyler’s file. The door creaked open as Josh slid inside. He was visibly shaken, his appearance dishelmed; much to Kelly’s surprise.

“Is everything okay, Josh?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Why did you want to see me?” he pressed, setting himself gingerly against one of the couches. Kelly pursed her lips, closing the file and taking it with her to sit opposite the teacher.

“I’m worried about Tyler. As I’m sure you’re aware, a lot of my patients have severe issues but Tyler, I fear it’s something more. Have you noticed any strange behaviour during class? It’s important you tell me, Josh. I think Tyler’s problems may need further attention.”

Josh was weary of Kelly’s intentions but his alteration with Tyler had left him feeling uncertain. His quick switch in behaviour and attitude had startled him and Tyler’s paranoid thoughts were becoming ever more prominent.

“How do I know you’re doing this for the right reasons?” he accused, brows furrowing as she handed him his file.

“I shouldn’t be showing you this but I want you to read the symptoms on the first page. Does any of Tyler’s behaviour mirror anything on that list?”

Josh took the thick file and flicked open the first page. There were many scribbles dotted around the page; small notes on Tyler’s odd attitudes during his sessions. In the centre of the page sat a long list of symptoms that Josh skimmed over.

  * Anxiety
  * Agitation
  * Unusual or paranoid thoughts and delusions
  * Thoughts of self harm
  * Memory loss or confusion
  * Hallucinations



 

“He’s shown pretty much all of these,” Josh sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Although I’m not sure about hallucinations.”

“Our last session has brought up many concerns,” Kelly explained, taking a sip from her coffee mug. “He seemed more distant than usual like he was lost in his thoughts. I think he’s started experiencing hallucinations. He became extremely anxious and panicked as though he was seeing something awful. He wasn’t here anymore, y’know? I’ve seen it before in some of the more extreme cases but they’re usually as a result of extensive drug use.”

“Couldn’t that be the problem with Tyler, though? He used a lot of different substances before coming here, right?”

“Yes but, but this felt different. More deep rooted, I suppose. I think they’re encouraging him to indulge in harmful behaviour; both to himself and to others.”

“He’s adamant you’ve got a person vendetta against him and Brendon’s crew and I’m not going to lie, Kelly, it does seem so. Gerard’s been locked away in suicide block for a long time now. He’s missed a lot of classes. Isn’t there a mandatory holding time?” Josh frowned, flicking through the rest of the file.

“Gerard expressed having suicidal thoughts to me, Josh. I _am_ his therapist and at the time, I felt like it was the safest possible option.”

“And how is he?”

Kelly sighed, seemingly embarrassed. She nibbled a fraying nail and took another sip of coffee. She watched Josh nose through the file anxiously, knowing what he was about to stumble upon.

“We’ve all made mistakes, Josh. I- I let him get into my head. That’s never happened with a patient before and I lost sight of the bigger picture. I knew Gerard being in suicide block would affect Frank because the boy depends on him. I knew Frank would crack under the pressure and it was obvious that would make Brendon anxious and feel the need to control him. With Gerard being away, I knew it’d make him paranoid something was going to happen and obviously, Mikey wouldn’t cope well without him. Although, I didn’t expect it to weight so heavily on Tyler’s shoulders.”

“What the fuck is this?” Josh gasped, throwing the file onto the couch beside him and holding up Tyler’s drawing. Kelly swallowed and ignored the blush that dusted her rounded cheeks.

“Ah, Tyler’s picture. Remember when you brought me his work book? Two of the pages were stuck together and well, that was inside. That’s what I was going to show you the day that I- er, kissed you and you... you turned me down.”

Josh studied the drawing for a moment before snarling the woman in front of him with malice. He clutched it tighter as the reality of the situation set in.

“So, you decided to single handed fuck up the lives of five of your patients because you’re jealous? You’re spiteful because a mentally ill patient drew a fucking picture that you’d fantasised about in your own head and convinced yourself it was true? Do you understand how disgusting that is?” Josh yelled, standing with force and throwing the picture of the ground.

“Josh, please-“

“No! I’ve seen you handing your little notes to the young girl on the medical desk. Is that why you switched Tyler’s meds? You wanted him to get sick because he made you jealous with a fucking _drawing?_ That is fucked! Absolutely _fucked!_ Don’t you understand how messed up that is? You put his health at risk! That poor boy is in _pieces!”_ Josh paused, running a hand through his hair and facing Kelly with an accusing finger. “If you don’t request for Gerard to be released from suicide block _today,_ I’m going straight to head office and exposing your sick little game. I have the pictures of the medication change on my phone and don’t fucking think for one minute that I won’t go there.”

“You’ll be fired, too!” Kelly panicked. “Rooting through medical forms and patient files that are none of your business! You’re just a teacher!”

Josh scoffed a bitter laugh and threw his arms out at his sides.

“I don’t care anymore, Kelly. Like you said, I’m just a teacher. You know, I come here every fucking day and act like what I’m doing is making a difference to these kids. I’m the only God damn person in this building who believes these kids still have a chance at making something of themselves but I must be out of my mind to give a shit. I sit there every day and watch those kids lose interest in their studies, something that can _help_ them stay away from what got them here! Do you know how talented Tyler is? When he actually sets his mind to something, there’s no stopping him! But you!” he cried, taking a step closer with saliva slicken lips and enraged eyes. “You are poisonous. If I don’t see Gerard on his block by the end of the day, you’re fucking _finished.”_

Josh snarled at the paled woman before stomping out of the room, slamming the door to a close behind him. Kelly took a moment to stare at the door before she stood on shaking legs. She fumbled in the depths of her bottom drawer, withdrawing a crumpled packet of cigarettes she’d found in the lounge. She headed outside to chain smoke her stress away.

\--

Tyler was alone. It was yard time yet his friends were nowhere to be found. He hadn’t seen Mikey all day and feared the worst. He’d caught a glimpse of Frank after his visitor; he’d appeared deathly pale and visibly disturbed before vanishing down a corridor. Tyler supposed Brendon was pestering him.

He sat cross legged on a patch of grass, cigarette smoking between his lips. He surveyed the grounds as the boys played basketball and chatted without worry. Tyler found himself feeling jealous.

“I wish I was like them,” he sighed, taking a drag and watching the smoke curl into opaque nothingness. A blood stained palm appeared to rest on his right shoulder, a tight grip that discomforted him. He tensed himself, casting his gaze to the grass at his feet.

**_“Why would you want to be like them?”_ **

“They’re normal,” Tyler muttered, attempting to shrug Paolo’s strong grip away to no avail. The man sat beside him as he took another drag.

**_“They’re boring, weak, pathetic. You are something magnificent, Tyler; you must appreciate that. You were so well behaved under my control, Tyler. I leave you alone for five minutes and look at the mess you get yourself into. You need me, more than you understand. I’m here now, I’ll look after you.”_ **

Tyler didn’t respond, feel the familiar pang of sadness burn the back of his eyes. He stared ahead, watching Josh burst through the exit with a cigarette in hand. He staggered off to the side to smoke, appearing shaken and stressed. Following shortly behind came Kelly, parting in the opposite direction.

**_“Look at them. They are truly nothing. Just tiny specks in game they have no control over.”_ **

“And I am something more?” Tyler laughed bitterly.

**_“We control the game. We will beat them.”_ **


	23. A Momentary Glimpse of Freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is nearing it's ending..
> 
> Read with caution. :) xx

_Access granted._

Kelly buried the nervous tickle that perpetrated her entirety as the iron bars gave way, exposing the bitterness of the suicide block. Its atmosphere was as haunting as its reputation, with the undeniable chill and ghostly presence. Kelly’s heels echoed across the tiled floor as she made her way toward reception, nails tapping one another in an anxious rhythm.

“Kelly, nice to see you!” the elderly man grinned, yellow teeth bared in an unwelcoming grin. His eyes told tales of the horrors he’d encountered; the wrinkles on his skin a clear marker of the stress he carried. His crooked shoulders sat slanted as though his metaphorical weight of conscience had transferred to reality.

“Likewise,” she whispered in a craven tone that seemed out of character. “I’m here to request release of a patient, Charles. It’s extremely important he be let out today.”

“Name?” Charles sighed, resuming his position.

“Gerard Way.”

“Ah,” Charles hummed, eyebrows raised to the retrieving hairline that exposed his scalp. “I was wondering when you’d be fetching him. Thought the poor lad had been forgotten about.”

Kelly did little to disguise the crimson flush that seared her face as Charles staggered to his feet. He printed out the release form which Kelly quickly signed and motioned her toward the second door. Once unlocked, she took a brief moment to collect herself before following Charles along the darkened hallways. They soon reached the dreaded room that prisoner’s deeply feared; not that Kelly could blame them. It was nothing more than stagnant ambience and less than melodic pitiful cries; the room churned the depth of Kelly’s guilt. Patients lay abreast in a benumbed manner, their vacant faces watching her as she hurried by in shame.

How many of these innocent children had Kelly banished to the forgotten block?

“There,” Charles coughed, pointing to the right hand corner of the room. Kelly came to a rapid halt as she cast her eyes over Gerard. He was blanched in appearance from lack of sunlight, cheekbones more prominent than Kelly remembered. He sat hunched over, motionless and expressionless, fading into the background with the other patients. Grease slicked hair discarded his distant eyes and Kelly couldn’t remember a time she’d regretted a decision so much. She quickly paced toward him, kneeling down at the foot of the make shift bed.

“Gerard?”

He refused to glance upward, eyelids screwing tightly to a close. His fingers curled around the tattered mattress edge, nails near slitting the thin fabric.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk to me,” Kelly whispered, willing the prickle in her eyes to disappear. “But I’m here to take you back to your block. I’ve signed your release form.”

“Is Frank okay?” Gerard husked, voice broken and quiet. Kelly was taken aback by the inquest, momentarily amazed by their bond. She swallowed the lump that engulfed her throat and thought of Frank. He was slipping away quickly without Gerard’s company and she found herself wondering if they’d ever be the same.

“He needs you,” she breathed, willing him to look at her. “He misses you a lot.”

Finally lifting his head to braze her with scornful eyes, Gerard spat, trembling in fear and anger.

“You left me to rot in here.”

“I’m sorry, Gerard. I can’t possibly stress my regret. But I’m here to take you back, alright? You can hate me, Gerard. I wouldn’t blame you but you’re free to leave and go back downstairs. Frank will be so happy to see you.”

Gerard stumbled to his unsteady feet, gripping the wall to stop his twirling brain. He pushed past her angrily, shoulder colliding with force. He stopped just behind her, their shoulders mere inches apart, facing opposite directions.

“If you’ve ruined him, I will come for you.”

Without uttering another breath, Gerard followed close behind Charles to the changing area where he received his usual sweatpants and sweatshirt. Kelly savoured the threat on her tongue, slowly digesting the malice of the words. She tilted her chin up and fixed her blouse before heading in the direction of the changing room to wait for Gerard.

“Pants have never felt so good!” Gerard chuckled as he revelled in the comfort of his clothes. Charles threw him a warming smile and lay a gentle hand on the younger boy’s shoulder. A stern stare froze him.

“I don’t want to see you back here.”

“Likewise,” Gerard nodded, quickly engulfing the elderly man in a brief hug. Startled by his actions, Charles stole a shaky breath. “I think I would’ve lost my mind if it wasn’t for you,” Gerard explained, pushing the sweat laced locks from his face. “Your stories kept me sane. Like I promised when I first got here, I’m goin’ to write to you.”

“I’d like that,” Charles nodded, opening the door and nudging the boy toward Kelly. He was admittedly emotion about the boy finally leaving. He was one of the few that engaged in Charles’ conversations and made working on the suicide block somewhat bearable.  “Look after yourself!”

The journey to Gerard’s block was achingly tight lipped. Kelly was too nervous to attempt to reconcile with him and Gerard had little to no interest in her meaningless apologies, let alone humour her. They walked in silence along the corridors as Gerard enjoyed each and every step. The air was brighter and cleaner. The immutable sorrowing of the other patient’s had drove its way into his skull and played Russian roulette with his own sanity. He ached for the normality of his block. He ached to be in the company of his crew and hear about what had happened during his absence. He longed to see and embrace Mikey.

More than anything, Gerard cherished the thought of being reunited with Frank.

“Here we are,” Kelly smiled. The door to Gerard’s block stood inches before him in some form of sick, satisfying glory. Gerard ignored her as she swiped her key card and punched in the number. The light above the door flickered to a sickly green and suddenly, Gerard was thrown into the midst of his familiar setting.

“ _Here we are,”_ he whispered to himself, pushing past Kelly and pacing the floor in search of his crew. Other boys that Gerard had grown friendly with greeted him with open palms and smirking faces. Kelly watched Gerard disappear amongst the block, turning away and heading toward her office to await the inevitable.

“Gerard?!”

His body stilled as the soothing voice called for him. He spun on his heel only to be attacked in a violent hug of sobs and rejoice. Mikey’s slender body crashed against him as he instantly threw his arms around his younger brother and buried his face in his tousled hair.

“You’re here! You’re here! Tyler _did_ it!” Mikey cried, clutching the elder’s sweatshirt with desperate fists. Gerard pulled back, delicate hands on either side of Mikey’s face.

“It’s so fucking _good_ to see you, Mikey. Fuck, I missed you. Tyler did it?” Gerard sniffled, hugging Mikey once more. The younger boy nodded against his chest.

“It’s a long story. I’ll explain in private.”

Although dubious of what Mikey had said, Gerard had other things on his mind.

“How- how is everyone?”

“I was just on my way to Tyler’s cell.”

They chatted between themselves as they slowly approached Tyler’s cell. Gerard was overjoyed to see Mikey was alright and made a mental note to thank the rest of their crew for being a foundation of trust for the younger boy. He’d spent countless sleepless nights over thinking endless possibilities Mikey could’ve fallen prey to. Mikey stopped him with a hand against his chest, peering inside a darkened, slightly odorous cell.

“Tyler?”

Gerard took a tentative step inside and frowned. Tyler was perched, shirtless, on the edge of his bed, facing away from the door. He was static despite their company. Mikey shuffled closer toward Gerard in search of comfort. Tyler’s hair was ruffled as though he’d been gripping it with clenched fists. Gerard paced forward, kneeling in front of the frigid boy.

“Tyler, you alright?”

“They won’t go away,” he responded, voice laced with a sharp bitterness. His glassy stare remained trained to the wall.

“Who?” Gerard pressed. Tyler slowly turned his head, as if the action pained him, to the corner of the room until his jaw clenched.

“There is a shadow,” Tyler began, running his tongue along cracked lips. “He follows me,” he giggled, aware of his own insanity. “I got what I wished so hard for.”

“And what’s that?” Mikey inquired, eyes darting to and fro the accused corner, which appeared empty.

“Paolo’s back. Isn’t that great? A miracle!” Tyler barked, crawling toward his pillows and curling into a safe position. He stared miserably into the corner and Gerard frowned. What had happened to the confident boy he’d left behind?

**_“I think it’s time Gerard paid Frank a visit. Don’t you?”_ **

“Paolo’s right,” Tyler nodded, waving the boy’s out of his cell. “Frank is waiting for you, Gerard. He really missed you.”

Sensing he wanted to be alone, Mikey pulled Gerard from Tyler’s cell and pushed him closer to Frank’s.

“What the fuck?” Gerard heaved, once free of Tyler’s presence. “They have him on some fucked up meds or something? Is he alright?”

“He’s been like that for the last few weeks. I don’t know what’s going on. It’s been horrible without you around. Everything’s changing, going wrong. It’s all gone wrong.”

“But Frank’s okay though, right? You’ve been looking after him?”

His brother’s silence did little to comfort Gerard.

“Mikey?”

He remained silent as they came to the door of Frank’s cell. He cast his eyes to their battered shoes as Mikey placed a caring yet seemingly warning palm on Gerard’s arm. Gerard wasted no time, knocking sharply on the door and pushing it open.

“ _No!_ ” he whined, staggering into the depth of the arctic cell. Frank’s trembling body lay peacefully atop the bed sheet, the pillow discarded on the floor with its innards torn open. The light from the hallway illuminated little of the cell, yet fell perfectly across Frank’s sunken face. His pale skin appeared near transparent as Gerard collapsed beside the bed. Frank’s hands were shaking, clutching desperately at a crinkled photograph Gerard could not see. He was afraid to touch the boy in fear he may shatter.

“Frank,” he whispered, the ghostly imprint of a sob in his words. “I’m here. It’s Gerard. I’m here now. You have to wake up and see me.”

He ran a gentle hand through Frank’s shoulder length locks. Gerard sniffled, spotting a dirty, discarded needle near Frank’s elbow. He could’ve sworn his chest imploded. Frank’s mouth hung open, lips twinkling with dripping saliva that dribbled along his chin and pooled against his sweatshirt. His eyes rolled relentlessly beneath his eyelids, encased with deep, purpled bags.

“I’m so sorry,” Gerard whimpered, stroking his cheekbone with a quivering finger. Frank stirred slightly beneath him, humming and attempting to swat Gerard’s hand away.

“Wake up!” the elder gasped, ignoring Mikey’s unsure murmuring from the doorway.

“No,” Frank slurred, burying his face into the mattress, soaked with sweat and urine. “No more!” he moaned, eyebrows twitching in frustrating. “Please, no more.”

Gerard gently shook his shoulder in attempt to bring the boy around. Frank whimpered with the movement, hiding his heartbroken expression further.

“Please Brendon, no more. It hurts. It hurts. Please no more.”

Gerard’s hands froze, falling from the boy’s body. He watched Frank curl tighter into himself, unaware of the harsh reality crashing around Gerard. He’d been tainted. He’d been _ruined._

Tyler had lost his mind and Frank had been _broken._

 


	24. Hold On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like always, read with caution and care!!  
> xxx
> 
> Thank you for all your comments, more soon!!  
> The end is near!

“Brendon!”

The venomous roar of a familiar prisoner brought a smirk to the boy’s face. He halted in his movement, spinning on his heel with a grinning face to welcome his crew member.

“And from the depths, he returns,” Brendon chuckled, opening his arms as a gesture of rapport. Gerard dismissed the pleasantry, instead bawling his tight fists in the offender’s jumper, shoving him forcefully into the wall behind them. Brendon huffed, instantly returning the stance with a snarl.

“I’d seriously reconsider what you’re about to do, Gerard. Let’s not pretend this doesn’t exist, right? You can do whatever you please to me but the _second_ your back is turned, I will end you. Understand?”

Brendon’s threat did nothing to waver Gerard’s burning rage, only fuelled the hatred that pulsed through him, slowly lathering his vision crimson. He tightened his grip, leaning in closer to bark into Brendon’s face.

“What the _fuck_ have you done to him? He’s barely fucking breathing!”

“You left him all alone, Gerard. He was sad; heartbroken even. He didn’t have anywhere else to go. He came to me. In fact, he came _for_ me-“

A thick palm trapped Brendon’s throat in a taut grasp. His lip quivered with fury.

“Is that why he’s using again? Because you knew Frank wouldn’t even fucking _look_ at you unless he was practically dying for a hit, right?” he sneered, chuckling darkly beneath his sadness. “That must really stroke your ego, Brendon, knowing deep down inside that the _one_ person in this prison that you want more than anything _despises_ the mere thought of you.”

Gerard shoved backward, releasing his grip on the gasping boy before him. He turned his back quickly, pacing to return to Frank’s cell. The heaving boy against the wall growled loudly.

“Are you forgetting I control half of this fucking place, Gerard? One word of advice? Watch your fucking back!”

Gerard didn’t falter as he headed stalked away, fists balled at his side. He wanted nothing more than to pulverise Brendon but knew better than to upset Frank further. He hoped the younger boy would be lucid upon his return. Those around him parted way in view of his anger and for that he was thankful. Being amongst Brendon’s close crew had its perks but they’d slowly withered beneath the weight of the challenges he faced. The hardship had only begun when Brendon had taken Frank under his wing, introducing him to his crew just several days into the young boy’s sentence. Still a trembling, emaciated mess from the streets, Frank’s vacuous eyes had scarred him the second they fell on him.

_“Why can’t we go in?” Gerard sighed, leaning against the edge of Brendon’s cell. The leader of their crew seemed elated, practically teetering on the tips of his toes with delight. Mikey fidgeted uncomfortably beside him._

_“I’ve got someone new to introduce you guys to.”_

_“A new member?” Mikey inquired._

_“Yes, Mikey! But I don’t want him involved in handling. Not yet, anyway. He’s fresh on the block, only got here a few days ago so he’s still jumpy as fuck. Come on then, come meet him!”_

_Brendon had entered first, welcoming his crew members inside. Mikey hovered close to his elder brother, who appeared taken aback by the thin, shaking boy on Brendon’s bed. The sweatpants and t shirt swaddled the boy’s skeletal frame, giving him an abandoned look. Gerard could see tattoos littering the boy’s skin as he stared at the ground. Brendon stood beside the bed, one hand attempting to cover the sick smile that split his face._

_“So, this is Frank!”_

_At the mention of his name, Frank glanced upward at the new company. Gerard bit back the gasp he heard Mikey emit beside him. Under the harsh light, Frank’s face appeared brutally young, beaten and bruised. His shaved head only accentuated his youthful look. It was his large, beady eyes that startled Gerard. They were both painfully glassy yet alive with malice and hostility. They lingered on Gerard’s face for a moment before rolling sarcastically and settling back against the floor. It was then Gerard noticed the uncountable track marks that defaced the boy’s arms. The cell plunged into suffocating stillness._

_“How much longer do you wanna fuckin stare at me, man?” Frank snapped, bearing his teeth at the two brothers. They took a visible step back and Brendon flared with excitement. “What, you never saw a kid addicted to smack before? Fuck you.”_

_“Frank has quite the tongue on him,” Brendon chuckled. “I’m thinking that’ll be very handy for us,” he explained, running a palm across the boy’s hunched shoulders. Gerard could see Frank cringe beneath the touch and found himself hating that Brendon’s hands were there._

_He wanted them gone._

That seemed a lifetime ago as Gerard watched Frank potter about his cell. They’d come full circle and Gerard felt lost. He’d sent Mikey away in fear of overwhelming the boy when he awoke. During his visit to Brendon, Frank had clearly cleared his trip and was trying to salvage and clean the state of his cell. Gerard took a moment to admire the man Frank had grown into it during his sentence. His hair had grown to shoulder length and although it sat unwashed and placid, Gerard thought it better than the buzz cut Frank had arrived with. His face and body had filled out nicely, muscles growing as Brendon had practically forced the boy to work out during countless yard times. His attitude had somewhat dampened but Frank’s sharp tongue and humour had been reserved for the rare occasions they found alone time to simply enjoy each other’s company. Gerard knew the softer side to the younger boy; the side that reminisced about the life he lived before. He spoke about his relationship with his Mother and Grandfather, the relationship he’d had with the man that got him there. He asked questions about Gerard’s past and giggled with blushing cheeks when he told stories about his and Mikey’s childhood home. Gerard had worked hard to ensure Frank never felt the need to use again and it was _working._ There had been minor slip ups, moments that Gerard had seen Frank and Brendon in situations he’d never be able to forget but it had been _working._

“Frank?” Gerard called, voice thicker than he hoped. The boy inside the cell froze, hands clutching at the tattered pillow from the floor.

“Are you really there?” Frank whispered, scared to turn in case his mind had betrayed him.

“Turn around.”

Frank did so, dropping the pillow against the sodden bed. Gerard was leaning against the entrance to his cell, a sad smile across his features. They admired each other’s presence for a beat before Frank was stumbling across the cell, collapsing into Gerard’s chest with a sob. They staggered into the cell, grappling at each other’s sweatshirt desperately. Frank heaved and sobbed into Gerard’s jumper, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’re real,” he murmured.

“I told you I’d be back,” Gerard sniffed, planting a gentle kiss atop Frank’s head. He pulled the boy back to arm’s length, tracing his moist, red face with sorrow.  “You’re using again.”

“I’m sorry,” Frank choked, embarrassed and regretful under Gerard’s gaze. “You were gone for so long, I started freaking out. Everything got too much.”

“What got too much?”

“Br-Brendon. He- he was- and Tyler! Tyler’s in a bad way, Gerard. Brendon kept on _pushing_ him, askin’ for more than he could handle. He blackmailed him, made him do bad things but it- it was to help you! He got you out! He freed you!” Frank exclaimed, attempting to calm his breathing. Gerard burrowed his brow in confusion.

“What do you mean? Kelly came and released me earlier...”

“Brendon made Tyler...do things. With Josh.”

“The teacher?”

“Yeah, so he would help us. I don’t know exactly what happened but whatever Tyler did, it _worked!_ You’re here.”

“But at the expense of Tyler’s sanity,” Gerard scoffed, nibbling his lip. “I’m worried. I saw him earlier and he wasn’t himself at all.”

“It’s all been kind of crazy since you left. Please don’t do that again.”

“I would never,” Gerard promised, voice laced with intensity. “And I’ll never let Brendon lay another fucking hand on you, okay?”

\---

Tyler glared at his unpleasant reflection. The toilet on their block was empty, darkened and freezing. The mirror was slightly cracked, altering his frowning face as he ignored the shadow that paced back and forth behind him. Paolo perched threateningly against the sink opposite, watching Tyler carefully.

“When will you leave?” Tyler inquired, voice trembling with upset. Paolo chucked at his favourite criminal, a look of adoration on his face that turned Tyler’s stomach.

**_“I have told you, boy. When you understand.”_ **

“Understand what!? Just fucking tell me! I have done _everything_ that has been asked of me! What more do I have to do?” he cried, gripping the edge of the sink tighter.

**_“You must sacrifice the purest thing you know to understand the betrayal.”_ **

“What fucking betrayal!” he sobbed as the shadow lingered closer. “I’m fucking _scared!_ You’re not making any sense!”

**_“Do you remember the night I was murdered, boy?”_ **

Paolo’s body language intensified as he stood, arms crossed with a look of anger. Tyler shrunk under the shadow’s height as the atmosphere dampened around him.

“Of course I do,” Tyler whimpered, feeling panicked and trapped. He ran a hand frantically through his hair. “It- it was horrible. We were so happy...then just like that, you were _gone._ You died in my arms,” he sniffed, screwing his eyes to a close. “You were bleeding so much...” When he opened his tired eyes, Tyler found his hands smothered in thick, oozing crimson. He screamed, stumbling into the sink as he scrubbed at his pale skin to rid himself of the blood.

**_“There was blood on your hands that night, Tyler. There will be blood on your hands again.”_ **

“Of- of course there was blood on- on my hands! You were fucking _dying!”_

**_“Looks like we have company.”_ **

Paolo smirked, nodding toward the toilet door. There, amongst Tyler’s madness, John stood pale. He stared at the frantic boy with a slack expression, wide eyes wandering the cell to locate whoever Tyler had been screaming at.

“I- I know you don’t want me near you,” John swallowed, anxiously taking a step closer to Tyler. “But, are you alright?”

“John!” Tyler gasped, surging forward and clasping at the boy’s slender shoulders. He noted that his hands were now free of Paolo’s blood and frowned.

“John, you have to help me, I’m losing my fucking mind!” the boy cried, jerking his head to see Paolo and the shadow surveying him closely.

“What do you need?” John pressed, shaken by Tyler’s behaviour. The boy had always appeared so collected and calm and it’d been a long time since John had seen Tyler in the state he appeared to be.

Tyler shuddered as Paolo’s taunting chuckle echoed the room.

“I need you to tell me e _xactly_ what happened the night Paolo was murdered.”


	25. A Change of Scenery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, apologies for the delay. Have had to spend a lot of time studying but will hopefully be able to keep up with updates.
> 
> Read with care, hallucinations and description of wounds/blood.
> 
> xx

“I can’t.”

It was indescribable to Tyler; the weight of those two words. The simple barrier built between the waging discomfort in his mind and uncovering the truth. He’d have known, could tell, if John was withholding purposefully. He knew the boy well despite their troubles. It was the ripe regret that shone from the tall boy’s eyes that told Tyler he really couldn’t.

“Why?” he wheezed, a broken breath that surprised him. He released his grip on John’s arms and fell back against the sink for support. Paolo’s eyes watched him eagerly as he desperately eased the uneven rise and fall of his chest. John tore his eyes away, unable to accept that the boy in front of him was just that; _a boy._ Tyler was so far from what John had remembered that it was as though he were conversing with a stranger.

“I wasn’t there.”

“You must’ve been!” Tyler snapped, knuckles white and fists clenched. “You were _always_ there! Paolo would’ve made sure-“

“Paolo didn’t know where I was. No one did,” John swallowed, suddenly aware of the trunk like weight in his legs. His fingers trembled with the pressure of what he was about to do.

“That’s impossible,” Tyler laughed, a bitter and cold sound. “Paolo knew where everyone was at all times. You couldn’t have disappeared without him knowing! You’re tellin’ me you just up and left-“

“I was taken.”

Tyler fell into silence as an uncomfortable heat smothered them. The twitching of his brows told John he was calculating the possibility or the reasoning of his words but the tightness of his lips pleaded him to continue.

“You- you saw me and Paolo together. You walked in on us fuckin’, remember? Somethin’ wasn’t right… the look on your face, it was- it was _scary,_ Tyler. I mean, I’d seen you threaten and beat guys on the job but it- it wasn’t even _anger._ I can’t really describe it. You just didn’t seem there anymore, y’know? You just stared at us and then left without a word. I never saw Paolo like that before. He was real panicky and stressed.”

**_Tell him to stop._ **

Tyler ignored the strictness of Paolo’s demand as the darkness radiating from his corner intensified. The pounding beneath his skull deepened as John’s words came over him.

“Couple days later, I was on the job and some guys in a car pulled up and grabbed me. Took me to some woods in the middle of nowhere. They tied me to a tree, Tyler. I- they thought I was dead by the end of it and I guess I did, too. I could barely see anymore and in the end, it wasn’t even really hurting, I was just numb. They left me there, assuming they’d done the job but I managed to free myself and finally find the way back.”

“Why are you tellin’ me this?” Tyler sniffled, tugging the hair behind his ear gently. Paolo had taken several steps forward, piercing stare scalding as John sighed and fidgeted before him.

**_HE STOPS NOW._ **

Before John could open his mouth, Tyler felt a surge ignite through his body. He flew forward, arms slamming against the other’s chest, sending the boy collapsing to the floor.

“No!” Tyler cried, throwing himself back toward the sink. John, catching his breath, watched unsure as Tyler rammed his back against the porcelain. His face contorted to that of discomfort as his spine ricocheted from the surface before cracking down once again.

“I have to know!” he screamed, turning toward where Paolo stood. The elder appeared furious, arms crossed and aura dark, as Tyler furiously shook his head, willing the niggling pain to disappear. John clambered from the tiles, palms outstretched toward the frantic boy.

“Have you taken anythin’, Tyler?” John whispered, swallowing the lump that clung to his throat. Tyler’s eyes darted back and forth between his bewildered expression and the vacant space that he faced. John was uncomfortable and yet couldn’t bring himself to abandon Tyler while he appeared so lost amongst himself. John was well aware of Brendon’s position in the trade; he pretty much ran the prison from his cell. He’d befriended several people on his block that had warned him of Brendon’s ways and how he’d single handily demolished the majority of the competition. John was sure Tyler was hooked on whatever it was that Brendon was pushing.

“No! Shut _up,”_ Tyler howled, spinning to face John with blotched cheeks and twinkling eyes. “Tell me. Finish what you were saying!” The tremble in Tyler’s hand unsettle him as he stumbled closer.

“Tell me! Tell me! Tell me! _Tell me!”_ he barked, hand now clutched within the fabric of John’s jumper.

“You did it! You had me taken and nearly murdered. Tyler-I.”

**_He’s lying to you. You’re too stupid to plan something like that! Why wouldn’t you listen to me, boy?_ **

“He says you’re lying.”

“What?” John gasped, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Tyler huffed out a breathless laugh; a sorrowful noise that welcomed a choking awkwardness. John didn’t know what Tyler had meant. Noting the vacant space, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to pry any further. Tyler, with eyes broken and lifeless, turned once more to the empty area and nodded.

“Paolo says you did good,” Tyler whispered. “He thinks you’re smart, placing the blame on me. I- I’m not, apparently.” This time, his laugh seemed somewhat chipper, as though he were remembering a fond memory. His hand resumed it’s tugging behind his ear.

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about, Tyler?” John pressed, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Shrugging it away, Tyler paced toward the door. “Where are you going?”

**_Don’t answer. You’re a fucking idiot, boy! Keep your damn mouth shut._ **

As his shaking fingers curled around the door handle, John did his best to think of a way to keep him there.

“Don’t you want to know what happened the night Paolo died, Tyler? Don’t you want to put an end to it?”

**_Liar! He doesn’t care about you. He wants you to confess! Confess and be stuck in here forever! Don’t trust him. Don’t trust anyone._ **

Faltering only for a brief moment, Tyler tore the door open and disappeared without another word, leaving John to revel in the confusion left behind. Although John knew they’d been alone in the room, he couldn’t help but feel an uneasy presence from where Tyler had been shouting. He wandered if he should follow the boy to ensure he didn’t walk himself into trouble but there was no controlling Tyler; he doubted the boy even had control over himself.

\--

The halls were darker, colder, _thinner_ than Tyler could remember. It felt as though his shoulders were skimming the walls as he stumbled forward, their touch freezing against his skin. The light flickering at the foot of the hallway mocked him, each flash pounding with the weight of his conscience. Laughter crawled along the cracks and nipped at him, making him feel exposed as he struggled to remember the way to his block. Stumbling over his own foot, Tyler smacked against the concrete with a huff.

**_Good for nothing. Look at you._ **

There, beneath the flashing of the white light, was Paolo’s bleeding body. Crimson ribbons trickled along his skin, staining the floor as the puddle engulfed him. The wound, though small and precise, appeared oozing and fresh. The red stains bled closer as the man’s body paled before him.

“Paolo!” Tyler cried, left hand tangling in his sweat laced locks. He sniffled and whined, watching as Paolo thinned and drained of life in front of his eyes for a second time. “Stop it! Please!” His begging did nothing to deter Paolo’s rage. He wanted to look away, to not see this again. The memory would never stop haunting him. He screwed his eyes to a close in an attempt to hide from the decaying reality surrounding him yet the safety of his eyelids did little to comfort him. Away from the brutal sight of Paolo’s injuries, Tyler could see John being dragged into a car.

“No!” he screamed, head shaking in denial. “Go away!”

John’s harrowing pleads of freedom echoed around his skull, intensifying with every breath he took. Ripping his lids back open only saw Paolo standing closer, the blood around them flowing freely until it had nearly reached where Tyler remained hunched in paralyzed fear. Each time his eyelids blinked together, John’s pain stricken face begged for sympathy and forgiveness.

There was no escape.

“Make it stop!” he screamed. “Just make it fuckin’ stop!”

He could feel his sweatpants grow wet as the blood from Paolo’s wounds met him, staining him with the blood of the only man he’d ever loved. The fabric darkened in colour as Paolo paled in comparison, breath hitching as his end appeared near. Tyler became aware of a weight in his palm, glancing down before breaking into horrific sobs that crushed his chest and burned his throat.

There, amongst his tremoring fingers lathered in crimson, lay a handgun with Paolo’s initials carved in the barrel.

**_Why, boy?_ **

“Tyler?”

The familiar voice tore his attention away, fragmenting his own reality as the hallway he’d been trapped in melted away. Josh was knelt before him, a look of worry worn over his features. He quickly searched the floor for Paolo’s blood and his hands for the gun and yet, Tyler found nothing. He shuffled uncomfortably, noting he’d urinated himself and his sweatpants were dripping wet, much like his swollen cheeks.

“Are you here right now, Tyler?”

It took a moment for Tyler to realise the question required an answer. He quickly peered around for Paolo but found the man missing.

“What’s happening?” he whimpered, exhausted and confused.

“I think we should go pay Kelly a visit. I think it’s time, don’t you?”


	26. Insidious

Kelly Joseph was a proselyte.

Her faith in the unknown had been questioned invariably throughout her life. Each challenge proved more arduous than the previous; grinding her determination and belief to a near inexistent buzz. Formerly an influential member of the church, Kelly had been dismissed following the rampant spread of her son’s covetous behaviour.

Following Tyler’s initial disappearance, the church had offered sympathy and respite for the Joseph family. Tyler had been somewhat of a marvel to the young churchgoers, inspiring faith, and inclusion amongst them. Kelly and Chris were placed upon a parental pedestal and Tyler’s vanishing affected the church community, poisoning their spirit with despondency as week by week crawled by with no information on his whereabouts.

Whispers began migrating from tight lip to tight lip. Judgemental scowls charred the sense of support the church had swaddled around the Joseph family. Kelly had felt her faith slipping as though the inevitable was subsequent. Snippets of their dishonesty fell upon reluctant ears as Kelly prayed for Tyler’s return, knelt upon the wooden pews with trembling, clasped hands.

_I heard he was seen on the corner again._

_Someone ought to tell her._

_A hellion! I blame the parents._

_It’s drugs, I heard. Can you believe that? Poor family._

_Have the police been contacted?_

When Kelly had nervously welcomed two solemn faced police officers into her home several days afterwards, she swore she felt her faith _snap_ and crumble into nothingness; much like her hope had.

“What’s going on?” Chris panicked upon discovering his trembling wife sat opposite the officers. Their vanilla living room had never appeared quite so suffocating for the elderly man. “Is he dead?” he wheezed, shaking and clammy hand reaching toward the wall for support. Kelly remained silent, enclosed palm resting against her glowering lips.

“Please, Mr. Joseph, have a seat. We received an anonymous tip by phone call several hours ago. We were led to believe Tyler had been spotted in Lima.”

“Lima?” Chris gasped, falling beside his wife and placing a supportive palm against her bouncing knee. “Is this true? Why would he be there? What the hell is he doing in Lima? Is he alright?”   

“ _Let them speak,”_ Kelly spat venomously. A stray tear trickled along her lashes, teasingly close to spilling. The officers shared an uncomfortable grimace before clearing their throats. Kelly focused upon their clasped hands as they tore her heart to shreds.    

“We have reason to believe Tyler is involved with the distribution of class A substances.”

It was as though the living room had spun, warped and altered into a nightmare. Kelly’s chest was tight against her blouse as she grasped for air behind the shield of her hands. Chris’s palm had slid free of her knee, which resumed its incessant movement.

“There- there’s _no_ way. You- you’re wrong!” Chris argued, leaning back against the sofa and covering his face with his forearms. His jaw tingled with a nauseous sensation as the officers began explaining the situation.

“We understand this is difficult. Tyler was fond of the church, is that correct?”

“Yes,” Chris barked. “Which is why suggesting he’d- he’d do something as insidious as sell _drugs_ is ludicrous!”

“It’s possible Tyler could’ve been scouted for the job. It’s not unheard of. As you’re saying, who would expect it from someone like your son? It’s a good cover up. We’re going to be investigating further, we just wanted to make you aware. That being said, I must stress to you both that although this could be a positive lead… if the tip is true, you have to prepare yourselves.”

“For?”

“Tyler isn’t coming home, Chris,” Kelly growled, pushing herself to a stand before stumbling into the kitchen. She clutched at the sink with white knuckles and a pulsing head. Tyler’s father remained conversing with the officers in the discomfort of their living room. The forced whispers crawling along the walls found their way to Kelly’s spine, climbing along the juts and edges and sinking into her. She shuddered at the thought of Tyler standing on a street corner dealing.

It destroyed her.

She grabbed her keys from the side dish and paced to her car without a second debate.

That had been the better part of three years prior and Kelly hadn’t since restored her faith. The church, although they declared their innocence, had since indiscreetly stressed their distaste for the Joseph family. Kelly often found herself lost in the memories of the past, recalling her emotions and the dramatic effect it’d had on her family.

_What would they have been like had Tyler not ran away?_

The phone blurted its usual tone as it awakened Kelly back to reality. Droplets of her cup of tea had splashed against the stark white of the carpet. She didn’t care much anymore.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Joseph?”

“Speaking. Who is this?”

“Kelly, it’s Tyler’s therapist a-

“Is he alright?” she whimpered, free hand clutching at the crease in her brow. The timid voice on the phone was hesitant.

“I think you and your husband ought to come, Mrs. Joseph. I think it’s time.”

Without another word, Kelly hung up the phone and placed it back upon the table. She swiftly dressed herself in her coat and retrieved her husband from the kitchen.

“What’s going on, love? Is everything okay?”

“It’s time.”

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a slow build fic. Hope you enjoy x


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